


Confessions: I Dare You

by SaintDionysus



Series: Confessions [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: F/M, Food, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, Food writer, Foodies, Harry Potter Next Generation, Japan, Japanese Culture, Long Distance Apparition, Travel, Wizarding Japan, chef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDionysus/pseuds/SaintDionysus
Summary: Part ofConfessions: Memories and MoreCollectionA companion collection to Confessions of mini-stories featuring flashbacks and secondary characters.Boy and Girl meet at school. Boy and Girl are indifferent. Boy becomes chef. Girl becomes food writer. The two embark on a delicious culinary journey with more than a little romance on the way.This is the story of a side pair who needed their own story.Can be read as a standalone story.





	1. Dedication

**Author's Note:**

> These two have been SCREAMING at me since the first time I wrote their little interview. I fall more and more in love with Albus every time I write him. It’s also a lot of fun to finally give Polly a more formed personality and backstory. See more notes at the end.

__

 

_This story is dedicated to Anthony Bourdain, without which, there would be no Albus the chef or Polly the storyteller. You shall forever be an inspiration to me and your spirit shall live through your work and all the lives you touched._


	2. Dedication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired the chapter:  
> Homecoming – Kanye West, Chris Martin  
> Poetic Justice – Kendrick Lamar, Drake
> 
> Beta: MotherofBulls, Mama2HPBabies

****

**February 2030**

Rose and Scorpius just have to announce their ‘big news’ — as if Albus hasn’t fucking known since they were teenagers — and they _insist_ on doing it in person. The most obvious story of the century isn’t the only thing they want to tell him. They bought a pub and want him to be a partner. He would have complete control over the menu, aesthetic, and even staffing, Rose and Scorpius would just have their names on the door and two-thirds share. The arseholes. After galavanting around the globe for the past five years, flaunting his gift for long distance apparition, they finally figured out how to get him to stay. So he does.

Albus hits the ground running, not that he has much of a choice. He should have known the overachieving power couple would already have a designer and contractor lined up to discuss renovations. They bombard him with flooring samples, plates, napkins, curtains, and renderings. Flustered with the daunting task of making so many decisions before he even has a menu, let alone a concept, he walks out of the meeting.

“I’m going for a smoke.”

Scorpius chases after the temperamental chef. “Albus. What’s going on? I thought you wanted this.”

He doesn’t answer. Rather, he draws in the smoke deeply, hollowing his cheeks. As he holds his breath in, you can almost hear the wheels turning. Finally, he exhales and triumphantly says, “Homecoming.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Homecoming. I’ve come home, and I want to show everyone where I’ve been. That’s our menu concept,” Albus says plainly.

“So like fusion cuisine?” Scorpius is having difficulty wrapping his mind around this obscure concept.

“In a sense, but more grounded than that,” he explains. “I want to take the best of what England has to offer and mix it with global flavors and techniques. But, I’m doing it with magic. Like molecular gastronomy, but using charms and transfiguration.”

The Malfoy heir quirks a smile. “You ready to go back in there and pick from the samples?”

“What they have is shit. We’re starting over.” Albus flicks the cigarette butt and walks back into the pub, ready to bark orders.

Scorpius swallows hard, slightly regretting his decision to open a pub and chokes out, “We’ve created a monster.”

—xoxox—

In two short weeks, with the aid of magic, the most important aspects of reconstruction are close to completion with the exception of the installation of fixtures equipment. Decorating and painting are the bulk of what is left to be done. As far as the culinary side, Albus still has a few more recipes to perfect. The kitchens at Malfoy Manor serve as an excellent workspace until his kitchen is complete. Although, on more than one occasion, Draco Malfoy, Albus’ potions mentor and best friend’s father, has to check in on him and remind him to sleep and stop obsessing. Even though Albus was tasting food non-stop, he wasn’t really eating it and sustains himself on black coffee and adrenaline. He hasn’t even smoked a single cigarette. While in menu development, he quit smoking attempting to maximize his taste buds. Though his sense of taste is acute enough to pick up on the slightest hint of cardamom, he’s also utterly disagreeable in the absence of nicotine.  

Harry and Ginny have barely seen their son since his return as he also took up temporary residence in one of the many rooms of the manor. It’s just easier. The Malfoy home is huge, and Albus hardly ever sees Draco, so privacy isn’t an issue, but Albus can’t wait for a space of his own. His room at the pub will be complete by the end of the week, and soon he’ll be in his happy place.

—xoxox—

“So the engagement party is in two weeks,” Rose hesitates to tell her cousin as he’s elbows-deep planting herbs and vegetables in the greenhouse. The calming effect of being outside with its smell of foliage and wet earth is a welcome change of pace from the chaos inside the pub. A cacophony of hammers, drills, and pressurized air from the paintwork is deafening and manages to reverberate the glass and iron structure the cousins are currently occupying.

“Spit it out, Rose. You know I’m busy, and I know you are too,” he says plainly, wiping the sweat from his brow. There is a simplicity, and sense of grounding Albus enjoys about manual labor and using his hands. It balances the magical side of his life and makes him feel more human. Being in a greenhouse, surrounded by plants is his second favorite place to be. A kitchen being first, of course.  

Rose huffs, not appreciating Albus’s curtness. “Scorpius and I decided we should house a few of our friends upstairs that weekend and throw an after party the next evening. Like a soft opening. Not a full dinner or anything. Just some snacks and drinks—”

“No. We’re not ready.”

“We will be.”

“Rose.” He wipes the soil on his jeans and takes a more serious tone. “We don’t have staff yet. The rooms aren’t charmed with extensions. Hell, the lacquer on the bar isn’t even dry yet. We can’t let anyone see it in this state.”

He breaks his two and a half week hiatus from smoking and reaches for the pack tucked in his jeans. Rose motions for him to share and light one for her as well. Albus laughs at this because he only ever sees Rose smoke when she’s drunk or incredibly stressed.

“What’s going on? Why are you smoking?” Albus pries.

“The party.”

Albus quirks an eyebrow, encouraging Rose to continue.

“I mean...The planning of the engagement party isn’t as big of a deal since Draco’s handling it. But, you know...mum and dad. Same old, same old.” She draws in the smoke like a novice, pulling in just enough to feel the nicotine. “Fighting over the fact the party is at the manor. But seriously, when are they not fighting?”

Albus looks at the state of himself in disgust. “I’d give you a hug but…”

“Ew. Gross. Keep your dirt and sweat to yourself.” She winces and brings the conversation back around to their business venture. “But Al. Come on. _We_ can do this. Let’s open up the pub. Test out the recipes on less sophisticated palates than yours. She how everyone reacts to the potion-hybrid cocktails. It’ll give us a chance to make changes before the real opening. You know this makes sense and you know we’ll get honest feedback. _Please_ don’t make me play the majority stake card.”

“You two are arseholes,” Albus laughs. “I’ll always be outvoted.”

“Probably,” Rose winks.

“So yes?”

“Fine.”

“Good. I already have an interview lined up with the Prophet.”

“With who?”

“Polly Chapman. Seriously. You won’t recognize her at all. She’s a food blogger too. You should totally follow her.”

_Polly Chapman?_

Albus is a bit wary of the interview. Well, he didn’t _dislike_ her. They just never ran in the same circles. She was the typical Gryffindor Pureblood Princess, and he was the Slytherin Black Sheep. Goody-two-shoes. Rebel. Passionate. Flippant. Charms. Potions. Made the Chapman Family name proud. Albus ‘I-don't-give-a-flying-fuck’ Potter. They were _too_ different. Forget opposites attract. Opposites couldn’t even find a common line for conversation. She dated the quidditch jocks and he—well, dated is too strong a word. He _enjoyed the company_ of those wanton in nature.

So the countdown begins. Two weeks to finish the pub, the menu, attend an engagement party, and present himself to the wizarding culinary world.

* * *

**March 2030**

On the night of the engagement party, Albus casually leans against a high top table and sips his champagne. Casually perusing the room, he looks over at a petite frame wearing a strapless, fitted dress that hugs shapely curves in all the right places. The back of her blue sequin gown plunges down to the small of her back revealing an indistinguishable, delicate tattoo. _That_ catches his attention. A woman with ink does something to his head, his _other_ head. He admires her from afar and reasons there was no way that dress can cling to her body without magic. Pinned to the side, her sapphire blue curls, which perfectly match her gown, cascade over her bare shoulder. The mystery woman turns her body slightly revealing more tattoos on her arms while she chats to … _James?_ It finally registers with Albus that she is surrounded by Gryffindors. She turns slightly, and her big brown eyes lock onto Albus’s green. His chest heaves as she bites her lip and gives him a wink.

_Polly Chapman?_

Albus feels like he has no other option than to make his way over and say hello. He downs the champagne and grabs two more off a passing tray. Was he hesitant? Yes. Rude? Absolutely not.

“Champagne?” he offers her.

“Thanks.” She smiles, her eyes taking in his appearance, head-to-toe. The well-tailored, deep green muggle suit was a stark contrast to the pompous dress robes the more traditional guests decide to don.

“None for your big brother?” James teases.

“Don’t you have an ex-girlfriend you need to tell you’ve been pining over?” Albus jibes. “Or have you finally stopped stalking Allie’s profile making sure she doesn’t have a new boyfriend?”

Polly stifles a laugh observing the brothers bicker.

“Pol, watch out for my brother, he may be a Potter, but he is pure snake,” he goads.

“Wow, Jamie. I’ve been here all of two seconds, and you manage to make a joke about something as irrelevant as sorting. How stuck in the past are you that you find Houses of importance in grown-up conversation?”

The brothers take similar stances; the group worried sibling rivalry was going to bubble into something nasty. They throw their arms around each other and laugh.

“Where the fuck have you been all day?” James asks. “I got in this morning and was hoping to see you before the party.”

“I had errands to run for the pub. I barely had enough time to shower and change.”

“I’m excited about the pub. Your mum keeps talking it up at work,” says Polly, interrupting the brothers’ reunion. “I was supposed to stay there tonight but decided I’d rather be surprised and see it for the first time during our interview. Are we still on tomorrow at ten?”

James quirks his eyebrow noticing the fascinating tonal change in Polly’s voice when addressing Albus.

“Can we make it noon? I have full intention of making the most of Draco’s impeccable taste in booze, getting shit-faced, and bribing one of Scorpius’s elves to apparate me to my bed because I’ll be too far drunk to apparate or Floo myself.”

“And will anyone be joining you?” James asks suggestively.

“You want to join me? We’ll stay up all night eating Honeydukes sweets and telling scary stories?” he says excitedly, albeit dripping with sarcasm.

James shoves his brother in the shoulder. “Come off. You know what I mean. You seeing anyone?”

Albus shakes his head, “I’m opening a restaurant. I haven’t had enough time to have a decent wank, let alone start dating.” He can see out of the corner of his eye that a blush has come over Polly’s entire body and it catches him off guard. His head tilts ever so gently in her direction and drawls, “So I’ll see you at noon. Just let yourself in.”

“Yeah. See you then…”

“Wait!” James calls. “Join us for a round of Quidditch?”

“You’re kidding, right? Draco just got this 55-year single malt whisky he is going to share with Me and Scorp. I just want to unwind. The past couple of weeks have been stressful as hell.” Albus sounds almost whiny.

“Just grab a bottle of something and get wankered while we make arses out of ourselves,” James pleads with his brother.

“Fine. I’ll watch, but I swear to Merlin. If Chester Coote is playing, I’m jinxing the bludger.” Albus sneers. He catches Polly’s face go stern, suddenly remembering they dated in seventh year. “Fuck, Polly. Sorry.”

“Fuck him. I fully endorse you injuring that twat waffle,” she seethes bitterly.

He smirks, clinks his glass with hers, walks away, and doesn’t look back. Polly turns to James with sheer confusion. “What were we talking about earlier?”

It never ceases to amaze James that girls fall for his brother’s indifferent, slightly prattish behavior. Now to decide who he’ll take the mick out of first—Polly or Albus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To all the Confessions fans, thank you for continuing the journey with me. I have more mini-stories like this planned. I love these characters so much I don’t think I could ever say goodbye to them completely. There were some fun little Easter eggs. Reply in the comments if you caught them!
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	3. Lemonade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know each other. They’re just going to fall in a big old jug of lemonade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this you may remember from the Daily Prophet interview from Confessions.
> 
> Songs that inspired the chapter:  
> Teenage Fantasy – Jorja Smith  
> Redbone – Stan Taylor  
> Lemonade – Iris Temple
> 
> Beta: Mama2HPBabies, MotherofBulls

**March 2030**

 

The next morning, Polly arrives early and walks through the door of the Rose and Scorpion Pub. The journalist knows Albus really isn’t known for his punctuality and uses it to her advantage. She peeks around and takes in all the details of the space, snapping photos with her camera. “Hmm…” she vocalizes, impressed by the gastropub’s chic-meets-rustic charm. The aroma of fresh herbs from the greenery wall balance that ‘new paint smell’. In lieu of stodgy old photographs of sports teams, men of stature, and nature photos one would see in a usual pub—wizarding or muggle—are exotic artifacts and artistic photos from around the world. The sign may say The Rose and Scorpion, but the inside is all Albus.

Back toward the kitchen she finds a carefully set table. Polly assumes is set for their interview. Minimalist white plates serve as the base for freshly pressed green check napkins, topped with a sprig of fresh lavender. In the center of the table is a cylindrical glass vase containing more lavender, rosemary, and juniper. Just next to it, a mystery concoction with a fresh scent of sweet citrus. To add to it all, the smell of fresh buttery bread, pungent assortment of artisan cheeses, and charcuterie awaken her senses. Her morning dark roast and avocado toast have nothing on this.

The side door swings open and a sweat and earth covered Albus walks in carrying a basket of fresh vegetables and herbs. He fights the urge to gloat as he sees Polly’s mouth agape, knowing he’s made an impression. “You’re early.”

“I know. I wanted to scope the place before the interview,” she grins, unable to suppress how much she enjoys seeing this version of the chef. “Nice spread.”

“Help yourself. I’m just going to drop this off and then head up to freshen up a bit,” his smirk is more subtle. “Oh, that’s blood orange sangria in the pitcher. I picked up the oranges from Valencia the other day.”

“My mum is from Valencia! My Abuela still lives there,” she replies excitedly.

“I had no idea. Huh.” He raises his eyebrows at the coincidence. “Well, I hope the sangria lives up to your standards,  _ señorita  _ .”

“We’ll see…” Polly winks. “Go on. Clean up. We have an interview to conduct.”

_ “Claro que si,”  _  Albus responds, stunning Polly once again.

—xoxox—

Bounding down the stairs, Albus wears an old gray t-shirt, beat-up cuffed jeans, and brown lace-up boots. With his hair still wet, he runs his fingers through his long fringe and pushes it back. He catches the sapphire-haired beauty casually scrolling through her phone, unaware of his return. It’s the first time he notices her.  _ Really  _ notices her. How did he not know she was part Spanish? It’s so obvious now. The olive skin, the plump lips, shapely figure, dark, long lashes around the most alluring brown eyes. The nose is probably the only English feature, and the fact her skin was fairer at school. Hell, everyone was ghastly pale at school. Scotland is obnoxiously cold and dreary; no one saw the sun at Hogwarts. Polly runs her finger along her bottom lip while she thinks. Suddenly, Albus remembers that tick. It’s cute, so maybe it's more of a quirk. Perhaps some subconscious part of his mind was paying attention to her before, but not like this.

He clears his throat, finally making her aware of his presence. “How did you like everything?”

“Your sangria was a bit too citrusy and needs a bit more brandy, but everything else was delicious. I especially liked that sweet onion and fig marmalade with the soppressata and the manchego. Nicely done, Potter.” She lifts her goblet to toast him. “So how many countries did you have to visit to put this snack together?”

Albus feels a twinge in his pants.  Did this girl— _ woman  _ —just identify what was on the table without prompting? Oh, and she challenged his recipe.  _ Damn.  _ He clears his throat before answering her, “I can’t tell you all my secrets, Chapman.” Trying to play it cool and not make it obvious that he’s just as impressed by her as she is of him, he slides into the chair and pops a cigarette between his lips. “Polly, how the hell did you become a food writer? Weren’t you destined to be some Ministry rat like Rose and Scorp?”

“One would think, wouldn’t they?” she sighs and takes another sip of the sangria. “I almost did. There I was, just finished seventh year, I had a ton of internships lined up by my dad. I was supposed to mull over which one to accept while on holiday visiting my Abuela, but I said, ‘fuck it.’ I never wanted any of it — pressures of being the daughter of a high ranking Ministry official. To be honest, I’ve always loved food and stories. I was walking around Valencia and bumped into some muggle students taking photos. They were on study abroad and were taking journalism. We chatted for hours while eating and drinking.”

Albus smiles, fascinated by her story. He can’t even manage a remark, nor does he want to. His eyes are glued to her perfectly, pouty lips.

“At some point that day, I decided that  _ I  _ wanted their lives. I wanted to go to muggle uni and study journalism. My dad was an arsehole and refused to pay. Mum was supportive, but couldn’t help me financially, so my grandmother did. Not much. I still had to get a side job waitressing. But that’s when it happened—I fell in love with the culinary scene. I started a social media profile and blog. Got a couple hundred-thousand followers. It’s why the Prophet snatched me up as a contributing writer. They were desperate to bridge old and new media. What about you? When did you get the culinary bug?”

Captivated by her story, he didn’t hesitate to share. “It happened for me around fifteen. I was skateboarding around my neighborhood and passed a pop-up international food festival. There were a ton of young chefs. It was like discovering a new world and another way to understand people. But cooking is what kicked my arse into gear to start taking school seriously. If it weren’t for culinary, I wouldn’t have taken an interest in potions and herbology.”

“I...I didn’t know that.” Suddenly warm, Polly shrugs off her wool cardigan to reveal a cropped tee, exposing a tiny flash of her midriff.

“My parents were cool with cooking. They didn’t really have high expectations for me anyway. They got their auror-quidditch player with James, so I was in the clear. So how did Warlock Chapman take it? When you decided you no longer wanted to be Princess Polly?”

She laughs at his quip. “Well, I already told you he’s an arsehole. And naturally, he flipped. But Albus, it was  _ liberating, _ ” she recalls, “I told him I didn’t want to work for the ministry or take any of the internships. I was just so fucking tired of expectation and wanted follow my own path. That moment, I found myself. I feel like the person I was in school is a stranger. Not who I am at all. Honestly, I’m not even close to the Chapman side, and my family’s rank in society is meaningless to me, you know?”

“Yeah. I know that feeling.” His lip curls into a smile while she bites her bottom lip in response. “You know you do that a lot.”

“Bite my lip?”

“Yeah.”

“Nervous habit. I should stop—”

“Don’t. It’s cute. I like it.”

She fidgets nervously, surprised with his forwardness. “Um, I feel like you’ve been interviewing me. I think it’s time for me to interview you.” She takes out her mobile and presses record.

The rest of their question and answer session is fun and casual. Albus spoke of his travels around the world and receiving culinary training in some of the most exotic locales, all aided by his rare gift of long distance apparition. Polly tries so hard to stay professional, but after all the flirting earlier, it just bled into the interview. Though, she’s not the only one who can’t manage to keep it together.

The blue hair, tattoos, muggle schooling — Albus realizes she’s nothing like the girl she was in school. Polly seems happy in her own skin,  _ her beautiful, creamy (but not pasty), decorated skin.  _ She’s as confident in her craft as he is in his. His eyes wander in her direction as she casually leans over the counter observing him cook. Usually, he would shoo anyone invading his workspace, but when it comes to her, he doesn’t mind. Polly takes little breaks in their conversation to shoot photos of the dishes. While she’s distracted, he devours her with his eyes—the way she has to tip-toe to get certain angles, how her back arches and twists, and the way her long waves bounce with the slightest movement. It’s hard to deny something is pulling them together.

Their chat is accompanied by some food—which Albus playfully feeds her by hand. A droplet of gravy sneaks out of the corner of her mouth, and he carefully wipes it away with his thumb. His hands so close to her mouth is almost a type of foreplay for the two. After their time tasting dishes in the kitchen, Albus takes Polly to the bar and concocts drinks that break down Polly’s inhibitions. She asks Albus out on a date, to which he gladly agrees.

Polly presses stop on the recorder app and can’t wipe the grin off her face. Gryffindors may be brave and willing to take risks, but keeping a good poker face, they are not. So when faced with Albus’s cool, and casual demeanor, she already felt as though she lost and the game was up. Might as well make the most of it. “So, we have a few hours before the party tonight. Why don’t you grab that bottle of champagne that you just popped open and we’ll finish it.”

“So is this why you asked me out? Access to free booze and food?” he jokes while coming round to the other side of the bar with bottle and glasses in hand.   

“I asked you out because I knew you wouldn’t do it yourself,” she says smugly. Polly’s ‘interview voice’ is more bubbly and personable, while her flirtatious voice is almost hypnotic.

“Is that so?” He responds, partially intrigued and offended as he pours the champagne.

“That’s how you snakes operate.” She sips the champagne. “Wow, that’s amazing even without the mixers." Albus smirks in response as she continues. “You boys, Rose can attest to this. You throw out the bait, but never reel it in. You want the meal to present itself on the plate.”

Albus laughs at the analogy. “Now, that is not true.”

“Well, it’s because you stayed in the snake pit. Those girls played you just as hard as you played them.” Polly says with a bit of disdain.

“Hold on there.” Albus refrains from laughing at this whole recollection of school memories. “No one was played. We all just had  _ fun. _ Yes, some of those girls were batshit crazy. But—”

“Enough.” She puts her finger over his lips. “We’re heading down a slippery slope. It’s not good to talk about exes before our first date.”

“Fair enough.” Polly lowers her finger allowing him to speak. “Be honest with me. Do you think this place has what it takes to be successful.”

“I told you I did.” She’s surprised with Albus’s shift from flirtatious to slightly self-conscious but earnest. “Albus, our world has nothing like this. You’re going to blow people away. And that is my professional opinion.”

Shyly, he smiles, not knowing how to take the compliment, despite feeling massive relief. “Could you come by sometime this week and try the rest of the menu? I have a tasting planned for my family, but I need  _ real  _ feedback, and I don’t think they will say anything more than,  _ ‘it sucks,’   _ ‘ _ you’re so fucking pretentious,’  _ and  _ ‘oh, it’s wonderful sweetheart.’ _ ”

“Of course, I will.”

Suddenly, they now had two dates planned for the week.  

“Pol?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t remember you being so easy to talk to or being so…” he trails off, unable to find the words.

“What?” Her eyes plead, wanting him to say or do something.

He leans in close and cups her face with one hand. Gently, he runs the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, causing it to tremble, urging him to go further. Those lips have been taunting him all day. Albus has watched those pouty, juicy lips move as Polly spoke. She even wore a deep shade of purple lipstick that drew his attention to her mouth. While her other features are equally delicious looking, that mouth needed to be tasted. He finally presses his lips against hers, giving into a craving. As if reading his mind, Polly parts her lips, as eager to taste his kiss as he is to taste hers. Their tongues brush and swirl, savoring the sensation.

She should have known—from his cooking to his cocktails to his kiss—he takes something familiar and makes it new and exciting. If intrigue had a flavor, she was sure his kiss was it. All she knew is she wanted more.

Albus slides off the stool and plants his feet in front of her. All he can think about is discovering everything about her, especially how she looks free of clothes. He grabs the sides of her exposed waist, thankful for her choice in wardrobe. Her skin next to his feels like a fire igniting. His hands roam up and down her body, committing soft, supple curves and firm muscle to memory.

Completely enraptured by his nimble touch, she parts her legs, inviting him to press himself against her. Her manicured fingernails, with polish in the same color of her gown from the night before, scratch his scalp while her fingers entwine and tug on his raven hair. Her breath catches as his hand finds its way up her shirt, discovering her lack of a bra. As he kneads her breast and playfully pinches her nipple, she can’t help but break the kiss and moan into his mouth.

“I need to taste you,” he hisses before stealing another kiss.

“What do you have in mind?” she asks while grinding up against him.

“Upstairs. You sitting on my face. Now.” He picks her up and wraps her legs around his waist.

Polly reaches for her wand, hidden in the back pocket of her jeans, and summons her camera and bag.

“Camera, eh?”

“We’re not there, yet, Potter.”

“But you’re saying there’s a possibility?”

“Oh, shut up and take me to your room.” Her mouth crashes on his once again as he obliges.

* * *

**!—LEMON WARNING: SCROLL TO BREAK—!**

* * *

 

The door closes behind him but he’s so preoccupied with the vixen clinging to him, he forgets to lock the door. She slides off of him, and it registers how short she is, but it doesn’t bother him. What she lacks in height, she makes up everywhere else. With an almost furious urgency, she unbuttons his jeans, freeing his cock.

She says, “Now doesn’t this look yummy,” taking it with both hands examining it from different angles.

“Wait, I wanted to— _ oh,”  _ before he could protest, those pretty lips of hers that he has been fixated on all day, were wrapped around his head.

Her tongue twirls around the smooth skin, sending shivers through his body. She gently bobs her head and sucks before finding a rhythm. His moans and expletives let her know that that he enjoys this ‘getting to know you’ phase. Her tongue trails up and down his shaft, seeking his most sensitive areas. Her eyes flash upward hoping to catch his attention. With his fingers grasping her hair he smirks and pants, “Holy fuck, you’re amazing.”

Spurred on by the compliment, she ramps up the pace, taking him deeper and deeper down her throat. Every slurp and gurgle she makes, causes him to moan louder in appreciation. Just to vary the movements, she sucks his head, hard, making the naughtiest popping sound as she releases.

Polly holds onto his hip with one hand and the other hand on the base of his shaft. Albus continues to guide her with both hands grasping her hair and the movements of his hips matching hers.

“I...can’t…” he grunts, knowing he’ll explode at any moment.

She increases her pace and sucks harder, helping him cross the finish line. He shakes and shivers and looks near collapse as she swallows every drop. Just for good measure, she gives his tip a lick, making sure she didn’t miss anything.

“You…” Albus pants, while helping Polly off her knees despite his own legs wanting to give out.

“Yes?” she plays coy.

“You’re a bad, bad girl.” He wraps his arms around her with his pants still around his ankles. “One, you were supposed to go first. Two, you’re far too dressed. Three, we need to take something before we go any further.”

She laughs and tugs onto his t-shirt—the one she was far too eager to remove in her haste. “Okay, maybe I just couldn’t help myself.” She takes off her shirt, baring her voluptuous breasts. “Better?”

“Almost.” He follows her lead and rips off his shirt, then hooks his fingers into her jeans and pulls her back into him then starts removing the offending clothing. When he pulls down the zipper, her white cotton thong panties surprise him in a good way. She’s sexy, but not overt. He slides his thumbs under the straps and pulls them down with her jeans. As if he were Prince Fucking Charming, he helps her remove her shoes and the last bit of clothing. From his position, he can smell the intoxicating scent of her arousal. He trails his nose against her thigh to her apex, inhaling the sweet musk. His lips latch onto her clit.

“ _ Oh, fuck!”  _ she exclaims. Remembering he said something about before they went further. “Wait. What did you say about taking something?”

Impatiently, he dips his tongue between her lips, sneaking a taste before answering her. “Mmm. You taste fucking delicious.” As he stands up, he peppers kisses from her navel to the base of her neck. She whimpers under the tender presses of his lips against her skin. “Lay down. I’ll get it.” He gives her a smack on the bum before heading toward his bathroom.

Polly adjusts herself and attempts to make a seductive pose in his messy, unmade bed. The soft gray cotton sheets smell just like him, and she’s torn between playing vixen or burrowing herself in the soft blankets. She decides, sexy now, cuddle later.

In his hands, he returns with two vials.

“What are those?”

“Well, one I will need to take after your little stunt earlier. It’s a recovery potion. The other potion is for you if you need it. It’s a contraceptive with other protective properties. I’m not going to make any assumptions, but I also have other methods—”

Polly lets out a little laugh. Albus is just too adorable when being practical and respectful at the same time. “It’s been a while for me, so I’m not on any other method of birth control. So yes, I’ll take the potion. I trust you. But if you prefer condoms...”

“I can assure you that this elixir is much more effective and is going into research and development—”

“Give it to me and take yours. We are  _ so  _ not done yet.”

Albus smirks as he hands her the vial. After drinking their potions, they resume kissing, picking up where they left off. He crawls down her body and positions his face between her legs. He smirks recalling her remark earlier about wanting his meal presented on a platter. Maybe she was right about something. Seeing her there, ready to be devoured, he was already salivating. He presses his mouth to her neatly trimmed center and buries his tongue as deep as it could go. Polly’s hips jerk, as the sensation takes over. His tongue dips in out of her sweet core and the tip of his nose tickles her swollen bud. Not wanting it to feel neglected, he begins to flick the sensitive bundle of nerves while pumping his fingers inside of her.

She grabs his hair while twisting and writhing beneath him. The words that have spill out of her mouth are a mix of praises, curses, pleading for more, and nonsense. Her hips grind against his mouth seeking more pressure. He takes the hint and rubs her clit vigorously with his thumb while curving his fingers upward and pumping faster. Not much long after, she’s screaming his name and coating his fingers with her essence.

Albus licks his fingers, savoring her juices and his handiwork. He crawls back up and kisses her passionately. He positions himself at her entrance readying them for the main course.

“Fuck me already.” She pants and pleads.

With that, he rams into her and pounds her until she sees stars. The two thrash about the room attempting every position possible while defiling every piece of furniture. One would say that they were starved—unable to get their fill. Every thrust, kiss, bite, suckle, tug of the hair—all fed the growing fire. They have no idea how much time has passed, all they know is they’re covered in sweat and almost aching from the friction. They finally succumb to the overwhelming pressure.

Albus collapses on top of her, his weeping cock sliding out of her. The sweat trickles down his nose as he pants. They lock eyes and smile. “Wow,” is all he can muster.

Tracing nonsensical patterns down his back, she replies, “Yeah.” Her voice is hoarse from all the moaning and screaming, but she doesn’t care.

He rolls onto his side and curls her close to him. Truly, he isn’t much of a cuddler, but whatever that was, he wanted more and wasn’t ready to give her up anytime soon. Sweetly, he tucks her hair behind her ear, exposing her neck, and places a chaste kiss. “I think we were supposed to go on our first date, then shag,” he jokes.

Polly turns her head and kisses him. “Then let’s call this morning our unconventional first date.”

He kisses the top of her head and says, “Sounds good to me.”

She sighs, content, enjoying the moment and traces the outlines of the tattoos on his arms. Her fingers find their way to his left hand and continue to trace his lines of his palms.

“Don’t tell me you’re into Divination,” he jokes almost haughtily.

“No. No. I don’t buy into that bullshit. I just like your hands.” She then places a kiss on each of his fingertips.

A soft guttural moan escapes his lips.

Polly turns to face Albus. Her chocolate brown eyes have taken a darker, black coffee look about them, and a mischievous smile appears on her face. “So...again?”

“My, my, Miss Chapman. You are insatiable. I might need some help.”

His suggestive tone gives her an idea. “How about we help each other?”

Albus is curious to know what naughty thoughts are going on in her head, but his imagination doesn’t need to wander long. She places one knee on either side of his head while facing the other direction and slides her body down his until her lips brush his head once more. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit this is the type of girl you don’t let go. As she takes him in her mouth, he dips his fingers inside of her and licks and nips at her clit. They were definitely ready for another round.

* * *

**!—END OF LEMONS—!**

* * *

 

All day, they have been able to enjoy each other completely uninterrupted, despite guests staying in the other rooms. The door swings wide open, and a bulldog puppy comes bounding in as a shocked Scorpius stands in the doorway listening to the sounds of their moans and the wet smacking of lips and tongues on delicate skin. He was almost paralyzed with the shock of it all. He and Titus need to get out of there immediately.

“For fuck's sake!” he exclaims. “This is the second time today! Al, finish up. I need to talk to you about something. Hey, Pol.” Obviously, he didn’t wait for a response, because, let’s face it. How on earth were they supposed to talk in that position? Scorpius closes the door behind him, shocked, annoyed, embarrassed, further traumatized, and heads back downstairs.

Time passes, and Albus finally emerges with the dopiest look on his face.

“Thirty minutes? I said finish up,” Scorpius sneers in a way truly worthy of the Malfoy name.

“Well, I already came twice, over the past...four hours? It needed to build back up,” he brags taking a seat next to his best friend.

Scorpius rolls his eyes. “Polly still upstairs?”

Albus grins, “Yeah, sleeping it off.”

Rubbing his face, Scorpius groans, “Must everyone be so obtuse about their sexual conquests today?”

“I’m sorry, some of us aren’t getting it on the regular like you are. And what do you mean  _ everyone?” _

“My dad is fucking your aunt.”

_ “What?!?” _

—xoxox—

That evening at the after-party, Albus and Polly try to play it cool and not let on how into each other they are. Luckily, well, for them at least, everyone is more distracted by Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy’s highly competitive, and let's face it, sexually-charged, game of darts. Polly allows her guard down and finds herself snuggling up to Albus, despite the surprising looks from their friends. Being around her makes his heart pound. It’s a new feeling for him altogether. Liking a girl— _ really  _ liking a girl— well, he can’t recall that ever happening before this. He drapes his arm around her shoulders protectively, happy to have her in his arms.

After a majority of the guests disapparate and floo home, Polly and Albus say their goodbyes and make plans to see each other the next night at a hip, modern Peruvian restaurant. As their goodbye kiss deepens, tongues savoring each other’s flavor and texture, they find it harder and harder to part ways.

Polly pulls away first, “I have to get some work done before I head into the office tomorrow.”

“It’s after midnight,” Albus protests. “Stay?”

“Tomorrow,” she drags her finger down his chest contemplating staying. “I promise, it will be worth it.”

She cranes her neck upward and kisses him once more leaving, but are interrupted by the sound of Rose and Scorpius vomiting.

“Fuck!  _ Albus!”  _ Rose wretches again. “What was in those fucking cocktails?”

Scorpius covers his mouth and summons the sobering potions from behind the bar. He hands one to Rose and keeps one or himself. They both force it down but immediately throw it up.

Polly casts a quick vanishing spell and scourgify before the smell causes a chain reaction.

“Thanks, Pol,” Rose ekes out.

This little hiccup doesn’t settle well with Albus. He’s been riding a high all day, and now the future of his menu is at stake. “Fuck!” he groans.

“Hey,” Polly puts a hand reassuringly on his chest. “You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”

He kisses her forehead appreciative of her support.

“Ginger and Mint. Try making them a tonic to counteract the nausea, then figure out what combination is making them sick.” she suggests, then kisses him one last time before leaving.

A woman left  _ him  _ wanting more. This was a first, and he was ticking down the hours before he could see her again, but first, he has an idiot best friend and belligerent cousin to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...I may have gone a little bit overboard with the smut. I couldn't help myself. I've been thinking about these crazy kids for months. They deserved an awesome first time.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	4. Passionfruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re falling for each other...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might remember the article from Confessions. I wanted to include it for anyone who might be reading this as a stand alone piece.
> 
> Songs that inspired the chapter:  
> Passionfruit – Drake  
> Vibin' Out with (((O))) – FKJ
> 
> Betas: Mama2HPBabies, MotherofBulls

**March 2030**

Albus wakes the next morning to an owl rapping at his window with Monday’s edition of the Prophet tied with a note.

_ Worked all night to have this make today’s issue. It could have waited until Tuesday, but I wanted to surprise you. I hope you figured out your potions problem. _

_ -Pol _

His heart skips a beat as he turns to the section with his interview.

* * *

**Pushing Pub Food Into the Future—without a Time-Turner**

by Polly Chapman, Food and Culture Junior Editor for The Daily Prophet

_ When I received the invitation to Rose and Scorpius's engagement party,  I was excited for so many reasons. 1) Why did it take you so long to pop the question, Scorp? Oh, my god, you've been dating since you were fifteen.  2) The party was going to be at Malfoy Manor, and Mr. Malfoy was footing the bill, so you know it's going to be extravagant and the booze top shelf. 3) Rose and Scorpius were putting up most of Hogwarts Class of 2025 at their new gastropub and inn, The Rose and Scorpion. I have to admit; their names together are the perfect pub name. But, the young Mr. and Future-Mrs. Malfoy (Yes, she is taking his name! I promise she is still a feminist.) are only the proprietors. The Rose and Scorpion is the brainchild of the black sheep, or should I say, snake, of the Potter family, Albus. I was quite excited to see Albus as he had been traveling ever since graduation and only returned to Britain for family holidays. Rumor has it that he's been all over Europe, Asia, and even the States developing his culinary voice. We had a nice sit down to talk to him about international travel, magical gastronomy, collecting tattoos, and old times. _

Polly Chapman: Wow Albus. You look great. I haven't seen you in years. This look suits you.

_ He's grown his hair a bit longer on the top and keeps the back and sides short. The black fringe makes the green of his eyes even more striking, and his cheekbones and jawline are more defined. It's been around seven years since I've seen him last and it looks like he's grown a few more inches. He's wearing an old gray t-shirt, beat-up cuffed jeans, and brown lace-up boots. Colorful tattoos start at his wrists and go up past his elbows. It appears he has a few on his neck, too. He lights up a cigarette and leans back with a casual confidence. It's a huge departure from the lanky, timid schoolboy in the green and silver uniform. _

Albus Potter: Thanks, Polly. You look good too. I like the sapphire hair. Did you get ink done, too?

_ We put our arms out and compare. I have the outlines of my half-sleeve started, a simple lion on my wrist and a quote by his namesake, Albus Dumbledore on the other arm. _

PC: So which is your newest?

AP: The snake and chef's knives after I finished at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris and the beer stein after becoming a brewmaster in Munich.

PC: So a lot of our readers wouldn't know this about you, but you were a bit of a late bloomer when it came to magic.

AP: Yeah, I’m still not that great at Transfiguration and DADA, but I found my stride in Charms, Herbology, Potions, and long-distance apparition.

PC: Does it ever feel strange you didn't follow in your father's footsteps?

AP: I use a lot potion making and herbology principles in my cooking and even some cocktails. So actually, me going into culinary is closer to the Potter lineage than the path Dad took. Over a thousand years of potioneers. The Potter surname derived from my family's excellence at herbology and potions. Everyone in recent memory knows James the Martyr and Harry The Chosen One. Fleamont Potter, my great-granddad, was the creator of Sleekeazy's. His creations built our family fortune.

PC: Albus, I believe your Slytherin is showing. I had no idea, but then again, I slept through most of History of Magic. I was hopeless in potions and always tried to get you as my partner, but you had no part in it.

AP: Rubbish! You're trying to make yourself sound good for your readers. You thought I was freak and didn't live up to "The Potter Name."

PC: Not after fourth year. You became increasingly more interesting after the whole time-turner fiasco.

_ As we’re laughing, I have this feeling that there is more to this reconnection with Albus. He has a much more worldly approach to the use of his magic than most of us do. We head into the kitchen, and he's enchanted many knives and tools to take care of all the mise en place. _

AP: I'm a bit of a control freak in the kitchen. I've tried to have prep cooks before, but this is easier. So in the muggle culinary world, there is this concept of molecular gastronomy. It's where you use science and technology to create new cooking techniques. Well, I thought I could do that with magic and potions.

_ He speaks to me as he starts grabbing ingredients and assembling different dishes. _

PC: Your long-distance apparition also has a role in your cooking style, I presume.

AP: Yeah, I'm able to source ingredients from most of the world without having to pay for the shipping. This bacon came from Wisconsin, in the U.S. I prefer the smokier quality of American bacon over British bacon. These lemons came from Spain. The cheese we were nibbling on earlier from Norway. The butter is from a co-op of dairies in rural France, and the bread from Paris. I try to grow as much of my veg and herbs here at the restaurant.

PC: So how long did it take you to source all those items? Also, aren't some of your suppliers muggles? How do you fool them?

AP: Do you see that little lorry on my desk in the corner? I expand it to full size so the muggles can load it. I drive away out of sight, then shrink it back and apparate away. But I got it all yesterday morning before the engagement party. I knew I would be way too hungover to try to get it all today. I'm still kind of hungover, to be honest. Okay, I have a few dishes for you to try. This is my take on a steak and mushroom pie.

_ It's bite-sized, and Albus unexpectedly feeds it to me by hand. The crust is buttery and flaky, and the flavor explosion is incredible. _

AP: You like? I make a reduction of the gravy and spherize it, so it pops in your mouth.  

PC: So that's how you did it.

AP: Yeah, so this is Roast loin and confit belly of Tamworth pork, baked hispi cabbage, apple & sage, trotter sauce. The magical aspect is I can temporarily suspend the veg from over-cooking. So when you bit into it, it's crisp, but then melts in your mouth.

PC: Al, this is unreal. I'm losing all professionalism as a food writer. I cannot find the words to how good this is. I'm going to try. It does everything you said, it melts in your mouth, but the flavors are so distinct and don't meld. It's very homey but thoughtful.

AP: Thanks, Pol. You've got a little bit there on the side of your mouth.

_ He reaches over and gently wipes the dribble of sauce off. The smells are intoxicating in the kitchen to the point I'm wondering what else he is brewing. _

AP: Last dish then you can try the cocktails. This is just a regular, old, sticky toffee pudding. Nothing magical about it other than where the ingredients came from. Would you like to top it with some homemade ice cream?

PC: Yes, please.

_ I take a bite, and I am immediately transported back to the first day of term, but it's just a little bit different. _

PC: Albus, why does this taste like Hogwarts, but not?

AP: You caught that. I got the recipe from the house elves in my last year and had been playing with it for a while. I kept wracking my brain on how I could put my spin on it. This dish is my homecoming if you will. Instead of cheap, shit brandy, I use a 25-year cognac. The vanilla is exotic, spicy, and well traveled. It came all the way from Mexico. Even the salt is from the Himalayas. I just wanted to show that even though something is familiar, it can grow into something unexpected and more refined.

PC: If you cook like this, how are you still single?

AP: Ha! Pol, you know I've always had the worst luck with girls. I always fall for the girl who is either out of my league, is after my name, or just bonkers. Maybe one day I'll find the right girl. You ready to try some cocktails?

PC: Sure.

_ We walk over to the bar and on the shelves are spirits by both magical and muggle distilleries, hand-crafted potions, and specialty glassware. _

AP: I'm going to make you the Pygmy Puff first. So it starts with muddled strawberries and raspberries, add some orange liqueur, and shake. You then pour it into one of these glasses, top it with champagne, and here is the puff part. A drop of this mild aphrodisiac. Don't worry. It doesn't cause infatuation with anyone, just the effects. So the heart palpitations, the butterflies, you know, all the happy stuff.

PC: Oh my goodness. I feel so light and happy. Just downright giddy!

_ At this point, I'm not sure if it's the alcohol and potion combo or what, but my palms are getting sweaty, and I can't stop staring at his eyes. _

AP: One last cocktail and then I'll give you the sobering solution if you need it. Something me and Scorp developed in our 7th year after getting pissed in Hogsmeade one too many times. But this cocktail is named Lion's Luck. It will give you momentary courage and a bit of luck but wears off in less than five minutes. Just enough time for you to ask someone out. It's a scotch whisky base, a syrup made from various herbs and fruit extracts, and a few drops of the potion. Enjoy.

PC: Albus. I don't remember you being this attractive. A man who cooks is so sexy. Have you been trying to seduce me? Because all I can think about is taking you somewhere away from here — Oh my god, what did I just say?

AP: Um. Yeah, maybe it wasn't a good idea for you to mix potions. I should probably make sure the bartenders advise against that. Do you want the sobering solution?

PC: Yeah, That's probably a good idea.

_ I took the potion, but everything I said was still on my mind. _

PC: Albus, do you want to go to dinner with me? There is this cool Peruvian restaurant in London.

AP: Polly, are you sure you’re sober?

PC: Yes, so do you want to go?

AP: Yeah. Sure. Are you putting this all in your article?

PC: Yes. People need to know how fucking spellbinding this place is.

AP: Are you allowed to swear in the Prophet?

PC: Eh. They'll probably just put black boxes over it.

-PC

* * *

There it is in black and white. Obvious flirting and an underlying tone of support and pride. His mind drifts, thinking of her smile and the nervous way she plays with her lips. Then it hit him. Getting laid wasn’t the first thing on his mind. He wanted to _see_ her _._ He wanted to _be_ with her and the evening couldn’t come any sooner.

Polly opens the door to her flat to find Albus with deep purple calla lilies and a bottle of red wine. She grins stupidly at the sweet gesture but before she can show her appreciation, she yawns loudly. Her eyes are heavy from lack of sleep and a long day at work.

They forgo going out, and he cooks for her again. She doesn’t have much in the way of ingredients after being gone for the weekend, but he still manages a decent spaghetti carbonara. Polly turns on the television, and the two of them snuggle on the couch and watch some travel shows while slurping their pasta.  His running commentary on the places mentioned on the program would have been considered annoying if he weren’t so damn excited to share. 

After finishing their dinner, she falls asleep with her head on his chest. His fingers trace the outline of her face and stroke her hair, almost lovingly. He carries her to bed and tucks her in.

Her eyes flutter open after he kisses her forehead. Not wanting him to leave just yet, she whispers, “Stay?” She reaches for his hand and rubs the pad of her thumb against his calloused skin.

“Tomorrow. I have to interview applicants in the morning,” he sighs reluctantly. He leans in for a peck, and that kiss deepens, and soon finds himself on top of her not wanting to leave. She kisses his neck and presses her body upward against this, willing him to change his mind. He groans, falling deeper under her spell, “You’re a bad influence.”

“Sometimes,” she says coyly. “So you’ll stay?”

“For as long as it takes.”

“Don’t rush.”

Yesterday, they were two starved tourists at a buffet, wanting a taste of everything. Tonight feels like a decadent dessert at the end of a satisfying meal. They take their time talking, caressing, and savoring every kiss. Even their orgasms feel like the smooth finish of a port rather than a shaken bottle of champagne erupting.

In their afterglow, they lie in her bed, admiring each other’s form. Polly drags her finger down his chest to his navel. His body is lean and muscular compared to most chefs, who all tend to be on the pudgy side.

“Okay, what’s your secret? How are you a fit chef?” she inquires with a giggle.

“Ha. Well, I do a lot of things the muggle way—gardening, lifting, walking, skateboarding. I like to do things for myself. If I didn’t, I’m sure I’d balloon.” He explains, “The Evans side, my dad’s mum’s side, they have a history of diabetes. So when my dad and mum went on a special diet when I was about fourteen, I just kind of got used to it. I just avoid a lot of stuff. I’ll taste it, for sure, but I’m really not that indulgent and actually don’t eat a lot. I’m content with sampling. How about you? How does a professional eater stay so petite?”

She groans, “It’s not easy. Believe me. I got chunky that first year of uni. But I kicked my arse in gear. Two hours in the gym every day. I try limiting myself to three new restaurants a week and cook for myself for every other meal. Balancing is hard.”

“Well, your hard work has not gone unnoticed.” He kisses her toned abdomen and rests his head there comfortably. “I should go, but I like it here.”

“Then stay. I’ll wake you up.” Polly reasons, trying to get him to stay once again.

Albus interlocks his fingers with hers. “You really want me to stay?”

“Yes.”

Unable to deny those pleading brown eyes, he shifts his position and curls her in his arms and pulls the covers over their bare bodies.

—xoxox—

The rest of the week progresses like this. They make plans, they break plans, they fuck, they spend the night together. They manage to talk about everything under the sun, but not a single word is said about defining their relationship or if there even is one. All they know is they can’t get enough of each other.

“Hey Pol?” he asks her while laying in his bed.

“Hmm?”

“Remember when I asked you come to taste the rest of the menu?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, I’m having a family tasting and wanted to know if you wanted to come. I mean, Rose, Scorp, and James will be there but—”

“I’ll be there.”

“Really? Because, I mean, my family is huge and intimidating. If you don’t want—”

“Albus,” she sits up and straddles him. “If I told you I would be there, I will. I already talk to your mother almost daily. Sure, I’ll be a room with war heroes and heroines, and your dad is the fucking savior of the wizarding world…”

“You’re just taking the piss out of me, now,” he sighs.

She kisses him softly attempting to calm his nerves. “I would gladly attend your family tasting and promise to give you honest feedback. Besides, my editor wants me to do another write-up.”

“Why?” He sounds almost offended. “That was a fantastic article.”

“Because it was almost completely about you and barely about the food,” she smirks.

“I still don’t see what’s wrong with that,” he jokes before flipping her over and tickling her neck with kisses.

While they don’t have titles defining their relationship, they are sure of one thing, saying goodbye becomes harder and harder with every passing day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	5. The Less I Know The Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another point of view from that infamous family dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might remember the one scene from Confessions but it has been modified to reflect the relationship development. I have also updated Confessions to the new text as well.
> 
> Songs that inspired the chapter:  
> The Less I Know The Better – Tame Impala  
> Paris, Tokyo – Lupe Fiasco
> 
> Beta: Mama2HPBabies, MotherofBulls

**March 2030**

When Albus was creating seating arrangements, he placed Polly at the same table with his cousin Rose, Scorpius, James, Ginny Potter, Harry ‘The Chosen One’ Potter and the freaking Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger. Yeah. How could she forget this was his actual family?

“So Polly,” Harry initiates conversation between courses. “What house were you in at Hogwarts?”

“Same as you, Mister Potter,” she smiles, proud to have come from Gryffindor.

“Please. Call me Harry,” he says warmly. “Huh. Slytherin boys and Gryffindor girls. I’ve been seeing a lot of that lately...” His mischievous green eyes point accusingly in Hermione’s direction.

Rose and Scorpius’s eyes shoot open, hoping Harry won’t say anything aloud.

The minister returns a glare that wordlessly says,  _ shut the fuck up, Harry. _

“That was a very nice article you wrote, Polly,” Hermione adds. “You have so much personality when you write.”

“Thank you, Minister.” She refrains from showing how flattered she is. Inside, she wants to fangirl. Though Polly has known Rose for years, the fact her mother is Hermione Granger is still unbelievable.

“We’re all fans of Polly’s at work at the Prophet,” Ginny says proudly.

“Look at that, Pol,” James smirks, “Already have the mother-in-law’s approval.”

Polly looks as though she is going to be sick and stutters as she tries to explain, “James. Al and I haven’t really—I mean we don’t have titles—It’s not to say—”

The group’s small talk is interrupted by the dessert course being served, but the table can’t help but let Albus and Polly’s relationship development amuse them.

The Potter in question makes his way out of the kitchen and greets every table. His grandmother brags and says something incredibly embarrassing, as expected, no one gives him any feedback of merit. When he finally makes it to his parents’ table, Harry and Ginny are beaming with pride and ask him to sit with them for a while. He pulls up a chair between Rose and Polly, and the family all give each other a knowing look.

Polly leans in to give him a kiss but catches a whiff of Albus’s offending odor. She laughs as she says, “You need a shower.”

“Is that an invitation?” he growls before stealing a kiss.

“Ahem,” Ginny interrupts. “Pickle, I think you forgot your parents and godmother are here.”

Albus and Polly blush while the table laughs at their expense.

“Al. Here.” Scorpius reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bottle of cologne and hands it to his best friend.

“Ah, I can always count on the Malfoy men to be ready to primp and preen at any moment. Thanks, Scorp.” Albus stands and sprays himself away from everyone. He returns and asks Polly, “Better?”

“Much.”

“So Al,” Harry also interjects. “I loved that crispy pork belly, but instead of pairing it with the Côtes du Rhône, I think an IPA would work just as well with the caramelized onions and apple. I found myself craving a little bit of bubbles after the richness of the dish.”

“Very nice, Dad.” Albus raises his eyebrow in surprise. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

“See, I’m not the uncultured swine you think I am,” Harry mocks.

“I never said you were,” he chuckles. “Anyone else?”

“I loved your snobby food, Al.” James jokes. “It’s probably my last decent meal for a good long while, so thank you.”

“Mum? Aunt Hermione? Thoughts?” Albus inquires.

“Well, I’m your mother and incredibly biased,” Ginny beams. “You could have made me a cheese toastie, and I would have said it was the greatest thing I have ever had in my life.”

Ever the mama’s boy, Albus responds, “You are no help, Mum, but I love you.”

“I adored the lamb, but I just wish there was a bit more of the demi-glace,” Hermione adds. “But that’s my only note.”

Polly taps on her notepad, catching Albus’s attention. He picks up her notes and scans her loopy scrawls. She made thorough comments about tasting notes, service, and areas for improvement. “I knew I could count on you.” He kisses her on the cheek. “Come with me and explain this to the staff. Rose, Scorp, you coming?”

“Let me finish my wine,” Rose tells her cousin and business partner.

“We’ll be right there,” Scorpius adds.

Albus and Polly say goodbye to the table and head toward the bar and kitchen.

Rose leans into her fiancé and clinks her wine glass with his.

“You’re terrible,” Scorpius laughs before kissing her.

James also starts cracking up. “Rosie, are you responsible for all this?”

“Maybe…” she says innocently peering over her glass.

“Completely sorted in the wrong house,” Scorpius mutters.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione also start laughing.

“Out of curiosity,” Harry asks, “You didn’t open the pub just to set Albus up with Polly, did you?”

“No. No.” Scorpius explains. “We just came into town and saw it for sale and thought Albus would finally come home if we did something like this. Polly came into the picture after we ran into her at a coffee shop near the Ministry.”

“Well. I hope it all works out. I like her.” Harry comments. Albus doesn’t exactly have the greatest history with women, so the prospect of him not only staying in one place but also starting a relationship with a woman the family likes, is a huge deal.

“Rosie?”

“Yes, Aunt Gin?”

“I’m glad you did it because I was so close to setting them up on a date too. But you know they wouldn’t have gone for it,” she can’t help her excitement. “So smart of you making them think it was all their own doing.”

Rose stands and shares a toast with her aunt. “Alright. Scorp and I have to be responsible business owners. We’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait. I’ll join you.” James stands and follows them, leaving the parents to talk amongst themselves.  

—xoxox—

_ Slap! _

The younger Weasleys and Potters turn in the direction of the offending noise. Molly had just slapped Hermione across the face.

“Shit.” Rose panics. She places her hands on Scorpius’s chest. “They must have found out about Mum and your dad. I need to go to her. Al, stay here with Scorp.” Hurriedly she kisses him and tries to take off.

Scorpius catches her by the wrist, “Babe. I can come with you.”

“No,” she hesitates. She knows he wants to be part of the family but now is not the time. “Please just stay here.” The arguing is getting louder, and she knows her mother needs her and leaves Scorpius’s side to be with Hermione.

Feeling alienated, Scorpius hangs his head.

Albus can already read Scorpius’s mind. “Come on Scorp. Join me in the kitchen. Hey James,” he calls to his brother, “Keep Pol company?”

“Sure. We can have anything from the bar, right?” James raises his eyebrow suggestively.

“Yeah. Sure.” He replies as he shoves Scorpius through the swinging door.

“I can’t believe she doesn’t want me out there,” Scorpius pouts. “We’re a team. We’re all going to be family soon.”

"Mate. You’re not family yet, and you don't want to be in the Lion's Den right now.” Albus tries to bring some levity to the situation. “A sweet little cinnamon roll like you couldn't handle it."

"Albus, don't be so condescending," he huffs. He looks at the state of the kitchen and casts cleaning spells to help. Despite growing up with elves, Scorpius has found cleaning and organizing calming and therapeutic.

Albus takes a more serious tone, "Scorpius, do  _ not _ give them any reason to hate you. This isn’t your fight. Honestly, Rose shouldn’t get involved either. This is all Aunt Hermione and your dad. You especially don’t want to get on Gran’s bad side. She just slapped the fucking Minister for Magic. That alone could get her sent to Azkaban. In case you forgot, she's already killed one of your family members. Let's not add one more to her hit list, alright?"

Scorpius turns two shades paler than his already fair complexion, remembering Molly Weasley is not the sweet granny everyone thinks she is.

James and Polly sit at the corner of the bar, as far from the family argument as possible. She’s quiet and tense, sipping on her bourbon, one that Albus stocked specifically for her.

“I can hear the gears in your head grinding,” James nudges her in the shoulder.

It’s overwhelming; she needs to get out. This family spat is too much, too soon. “I’m going to go, Jamie. This ... is a family affair, and I’m sure this isn’t what Albus wanted me here for. I’m going to go. I’ll text Albus and let him know where I went.”

The elder Potter son puts his hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place. "Polly, don't go without saying goodbye to him."

"He'll understand." She shrugs his hand off his shoulder and knocks back the rest of her whiskey.

"No, he won't. Look around. Do you see any of my other cousins casually bringing dates to this thing? You're here because he wants you here. Don't take that lightly.” he responds in earnest. Becoming protective of his little brother, he explains. “I know Al. He probably hasn't said anything, but his gestures speak louder than his words."

Polly mulls James’s words in her mind.  _ Does Albus see what they have as something more serious?  _ She momentarily goes breathless at the thought.

They hear another commotion, and it appears the very public, family row is over, and everyone is ready to leave.

“I think that’s my cue.” Polly hops off the stool and is about to follow the family out when Albus grabs her by the wrist and pulls her into his arms.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I’m just tired...and all of that.”

Albus feels guilty about having her be subject to his family's dirty laundry, but also remembers she is a reporter. “You’re not going to write about my family drama, are you?” He makes sure that his green eyes pierce her big brown ones with a pleading stare.

“Albus, I promise I won’t,” she forces a smile despite still feeling uncomfortable about the turn in events.

“Hey, I know tonight turned to shit. How about I make it up to you and I’ll take you somewhere for an unforgettable experience. Something that will challenge all your senses — taste, smell, sound, and touch?” He coyly puts his hands on her waist and ever-so-gently presses his hips against hers. “This is my last weekend before the restaurant opens, after all.”

“I’m listening.” She feels the heat coming over her face—and other parts of her body.

“How about fresh seafood in Sardinia, tapas and sangria in Barcelona, sizzling and steaming street food in Hanoi, or traditional kaiseki in Kyoto...”

Her ears perk up after mentioning the last destination, “We can go to Japan?”

“Have you never been?”

“No. I’ve also been dying to go to Osaka.”

“Then head home and start packing. It will be morning there soon.” The prospect of traveling somewhere exotic with Polly fills him with excitement and anticipation.

“So I’ll see you in about an hour?” Polly asks.

“Definitely.” He pushes her blue hair out of her face and gives her a soft goodbye kiss.

She looks back at him as she exits through the door.  

Slow clapping come from his father, brother, and Scorpius; Albus can’t help but smirk.

“That was smooth, Albus. Real smooth.” Scorpius teases his best friend.

“Foodie girls are great. They like to eat, drink, travel, and are, um, adventurous.” They catch his innuendo and roll their eyes.

“Son, I will never question your sorting ever again. That was impressive.” Harry is quite proud as he never had that confidence with women. Maybe he gave the middle name of Sirius to the wrong son.  

“Scorpius, will you lock up? It looks like I need to pack.” Albus can’t wipe the stupid smile off his face. Scorpius and James push him around playfully, and he heads up to his room above the pub.

—xoxox—

So in less than a week, Albus and Polly have gone from barely knowing each other, to spending every night together, to attending family events, and now he is about to whisk her on a romantic holiday for the weekend. Normal, rational, pre-Polly Albus would say,  _ this was a stupid waste of time, and you have some serious shit to do before next week. _ But he didn't care. He did the math in his head. If he was lucky, he would have 57 hours with her before Monday, and the clock was ticking. He checked his weather app to see how cold it was in Tokyo. A lot colder than he was hoping. He calls Polly to make sure she dresses and packs appropriately for travel.

“Hey, are you already ready?” She sounds startled the called her so soon after her leaving.

“No, still packing. I just checked the weather. It’s a high of thirteen degrees with a low of five. Not much warmer than here,” He sounds slightly disappointed. “But the cherry blossoms are in bloom, and I thought we might be able to sneak in a visit to a hot spring, so pack your suit.”

He can almost hear her smile on the other line, “Okay, sounds good. Any packing tips, Mister World Traveler?”

“Pack light. Use extension charms on a bag that is light enough to carry but large enough you won’t lose sight of it. We can always go shopping. Before you say anything, don’t bring money. It was my idea, and I’m paying for it.”

“Bollocks. I plan on shopping up a storm. I’m getting new knives, maybe some art—”

“I told you I’ll take care of it.”

“No.”

“Are we really doing this?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, bring  _ some _ money. But don’t be surprised if I sneakily pay for everything without your notice.”

“Just try, Potter.”

“Oh, I will, Chapman.”

She laughs and asks, “Anything else?”

“Do you have both your wizarding and muggle passports? We’ll have to check into customs, but they know me. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“Of course, they know you. But, yeah, I have both. So when will you be here?” she sounds anxious and ready to embark on their adventure.

“Forty-five minutes to an hour. I need a shower and still, need to pack. I smell like the kitchen. It’s not pleasant.”

“I know how you smell; I was just with you not twenty minutes ago. It’s bad but not minging,” she laughs. “But I was thinking we’re probably going to smell worse if we go to Tsukiji Fish Market. They’re about to open soon.”

“You read my mind, Polly. That was supposed to be a surprise for our first stop,” he smirks. “You dirty girl. You want me so bad, you don’t care if I shower? My, my. That’s a new one.”

Embarrassed, she blurts, “No! I don’t want you rank. I just—I just want to get going. Okay, I’m excited and impatient. Hurry up.”

He laughs, “Alright, see you soon. I’ll be quick. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Polly’s eagerness is damn adorable, and Albus can, wipe the stupid smile off his face. He reaches into his closet and pulls out a worn leather rucksack from his closet and places it on the bed. Rifling through his closet, he throws his clothes, shoes, undergarments, and toiletries behind him. The bag is charmed to fold and pack things thrown in its direction. Albus travels so much, he had to figure out something to streamline the process. Almost forgetting, he grabs a few vials of potions. Some were practical: apparition sickness, contraception, and sobering potions. The other elixirs were more recreational in nature; they heightened senses, kept the user up for hours, and increased health recovery. Feeling satisfied he packed everything necessary, he hops into the shower.

Scorpius, not one to respect his friend’s boundaries, walks in on him, fresh out of the shower, with just a towel around his waist.

“Mate. We haven’t been roommates in over five years. I would have hoped you learned to give me some privacy,” Albus scolds while drying his hair with another towel.

“Eh, Pol’s not here. I knew it was safe,” he shrugs in response.

“You know, you’ve always had the unfair advantage that I had zero interest in walking in on you. I am thankful I’ve never had to see you plow my cousin,” Albus shudders while opening drawers and reaching for a pair of boxers.

“For that, I’m thankful, as well,” he smirks. “So, you and Pol on a romantic holiday weekend?”

Pulling his boxers on under his towel he avoids the question. “Stop smirking. You look like your dad.”

“Stop evading the question. You look like  _ your _ dad.” The Malfoy smirk intensifies. “You like her.”

Continuing to dress, he answers the previous question. “Yeah, I like her. She’s fun, and she likes food—”

“Oh, come off. You  _ like _ her. You don’t like anyone. You get what you want, need— however your knob wants to justify it—then move on. You know Polly’s different.”

Standing barefoot in a black henley and dark denims, he knows he can’t keep secrets from Scorpius. “Yes. I like her. Like,  _ like her, _ like her. Should I announce it to the whole school? Claim inter-house unity just like the great Slythernerd and Gryffindork?”

“Why are you being so fucking immature with me?”

“Fuck! Fine. I’m freaking the fuck out. I like her. A lot. Like...all I want is for you to get the hell out of here so I can go and see her and show her the best time. And I don’t want her to be disappointed. And I don’t want to fuck up and be my usual arsehole self—”

Scorpius grabs Albus by his shoulders. “You’re not going to fuck up. You got this far. I think she kind of likes the arsehole side of you. We all do. It’s endearing. But if you don’t want her to get away, tell her.”

“Tell her what? Did she say something to Rose? Scorp—”

“Tell her she’s not Monica Flint or Gemma Hale or Lucy Scoville or —”

“I get the point.”

“Alright, fucker. Get dressed and enjoy your holiday. We’ll talk about the restaurant operations when you get back. We’re hiring more cleaning staff. I brought the elves from the manor, but we’ll need a dedicated crew for the pub.”

“You’re going through the union right?”

“Of course. Like I want to piss of the Minister for Magic also known as my future mother-in-law.” They share a smile, and Scorp slaps Albus on the back. “See you Monday.”

A text comes through on Albus’s mobile, and he raises an eyebrow.

“That Polly?”

“No. It’s your dad. He wants me to find him an art dealer.”

“What does he want an art dealer for?”

—xoxox—

Polly nervously tidies up her flat. Albus has been there a few times before, but it’s all she can do to keep herself from going crazy with excitement. Giddy. That’s how she feels. She tousels her hair wondering how this all happened. This has been one of the best weeks of her life, but a little voice in the pit of her stomach says it won’t last. Albus Potter never had a ‘girlfriend.’ Sure girls at school claimed to have been, but he was quick to renounce. It never seemed that he just used them, because they were just as eager, but you could see when he lost interest, he  _ really _ lost interest. He’s not the type to make rash decisions. It’s probably what landed him in another house from his family. But the past few days, he’s been sweet, charming, they’d get lost in deep conversations from theology to cultural conflict to dumb pop culture references. She’s falling for him hard and is terrified he’ll pull the rug out from under her.

A knock at the door signals his arrival. Polly anxiously bounds toward the door and opens it to find Albus with a mischievous smile and twinkle in his green eyes. Their color captivates her, and she finds herself lost in their depths as the hue fluctuates from spring grass to the deepest highland loch. Inhaling his fresh scent of soap and cologne, he admits, “Okay, you’re right. I like you better when you smell good.” She wraps her arms around his waist and cranes her neck upward for a kiss.

His lips meet hers, and Albus drops his bag and runs his hand along the side of her face while gently tugging at her hair. Realizing he’s still technically in the hallway, he breaks the kiss. With a smile, he says, “You’re so short. It’s adorable.”

She laughs and says, “Maybe you’re too tall.”

“I’m only five-eleven. That’s not that tall,” he kisses the top of her head.

“Well, I’m only five-four. You’re tall for me...but I like it.” She takes his hand and guides him inside.

Clicking the door behind him, he drawls, “The height difference may prove problematic with certain positions. Showers for example.”

“It’s a good thing I own a tub,” she responds cheekily. “Make yourself comfortable. I just need to grab my jacket and bag.”

Albus surveys the room as readies herself for their departure. Polly walks around the house charming every window with additional security, turning off the floo, and turning off all the lights. As she puts her worn leather jacket, which looks incredible with her snug, faded denims, and vintage heeled booties, Albus takes her bag and shoves it inside of his.

Polly laughs. Even living with magic her whole life, there are some aspects that still seem absurd. “It’s like nesting dolls. A bag inside of a bag inside of a bag.”

He zones out, admiring the way her whole face lights when she laughs. Her eyes squint, and the cutest little dimples form on the corners of her lips while her mouth broadens in the most brilliant, joy-filled smile. It's one of those laughs that’s utterly infectious.

“Earth to Albus?” She snaps her fingers after using the muggle phrase. “I’m ready.”

“Let’s go.” He wraps his arm around her little waist as they head up to the apparition point on the roof.  

They took one last look at the London skyline before they are sucked through time and space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the list of Slytherin girls on Albus's bedpost, one of the names you may recognize from the funny scene between Albus and Theo before Scorpius and Rose's wedding and another name is from 'Hot for Teacher' and 'An Indefinite Amount of Forever' by MotherofBulls. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	6. I Dare You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s go to Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I want to go to Japan now. I did so much research on different parts of Japan and I also watched Inuyasha and Miyazaki films for some inspiration on magic and lore in Japan. Sadly, I had to rely on Google Translate to name the magical district Mahō no Basho which literally means magic place. If you have a better translation or notes on magical culture in Japan, PLEASE pm me. I would love to hear your feedback on how to make this more accurate. 
> 
> Also, credit to ElleMalfoy65 who wrote the description of a “bro hug” for me. I was ready to hit my head against my desk, but she came to the rescue. 
> 
> Songs that inspired the chapter:  
> I Dare You – The xx  
> Sooni (I'm your fanatic girl) – SunWoo Jung-A
> 
> Beta: Mama2HPBabies, MotherofBulls

****

_Original Illustration by Little Chmura_

**March 2030**

 

The building is sleek and modern. Polly recognizes it as a muggle airport. The Japanese cooperative governments figured it was easier to have wizarding customs check-in in the same location as muggle customs.

“How do you feel?” Albus asks, concerned that she has never traveled by long distance apparition before.

“A little queasy.”

He pulls a vial from his pocket, “Here. It’s for apparition sickness. I should have taken shorter jumps with you. I was just—”

“Excited?”

Shyly, he shrugs, “Yeah.”

“Me too,” she smiles, as they walk toward the customs agents. They seem to be familiar with Albus, and they receive the all-clear in no time and are ushered to another apparition point allowing them to enjoy their holiday.

—xoxox—

The air is thick with the smell of fresh seafood, exotic fruits and vegetables, and hot food vendors starting to set up for the day. Dawn is breaking as the market comes to life. Polly can barely contain her excitement. “Al, I need to get my camera out of my bag.”

He takes out her colorful backpack, which fits quite well with the Tokyo crowd, and hands it to her. “Do you just want to hold onto it yourself for a while, or do you want me to hold it for you?”  

“I’ve got it. I added a few security charms, locator spells, and various deterrents,” she smiles smugly.

“Look who’s the world traveler now,” he teases playfully and places his hand on the small of her back ushering her toward the entrance. “Come on, babe.”

Her heart jumps. It’s the first time he’s used a form of endearment for her. Doubt fills her mind not knowing if he meant it, or if it was just a slip of the tongue. She hopes it’s the former but reminds herself not to get her hopes up too high.

Hand-in-hand, the observe the world-famous tuna auction. Albus passes on participating. The pub is too small and would never go through that much tuna before it spoils. Instead, he watches adoringly as his companion excitedly takes in the scene for the first time.

Polly’s camera shutters quickly as she captures every detail of the fishmongers, buyers, and tourists. She’s completely captivated and still manages to find incredible light despite the tight enclosed spaces. Everyone is courteous and reserved—unlike any auction she has attended. Are they standing in a freezing room starting at wealthy men purchase giant dead fish? Yes. She knows this is absurd to most, but this is a tradition upon which so many culinary masterpieces have originated from. Peering from behind her camera, she turns back to Albus and mouths, “ _This is so cool!”_

He can’t help but chuckle. There aren’t too many people who would find this exciting, but he found one girl who does. His stomach does a flip as he watches her weave in and out the crowd while minding the boundaries set by the auctioneers. She’s unlike anything he ever thought he needed or wanted. But here she is—

Polly Chapman.

She makes her way back to him and browses the library of images.

Quietly, Albus leans in and asks, “Get enough pics?”

“Yeah,” she whispers back. “So, the rest of the market?”

He nods his head and wraps his arm around her shoulder leading to the fresh produce and other seafood. While Albus sources ingredients for the pub, Polly follows him around taking more photos. He cocks his head in mock disapproval. “Chapman, how am I supposed to shop with you hounding me like the paparazzi?”

“I _like_ taking pictures of you. You’re very photogenic.” She winks and snaps again.

Albus can’t help but smile. It’s a cross between embarrassment and flattery, and he doesn’t know how to take it. “Fork over the camera.”

“What? No! I’m not done taking pictures!” she protests.

“Well, I would like to take pics of something _I like,”_ he grins.

“And that would be?”

“Your arse in those jeans,” he responds cheekily as he scoops her in his arms and trails his hands down her back and squeezes her backside.

“You’re a very naughty boy, Potter,” she bites her lip teasingly. “One would think that you like public displays of affection.”

“I like it very much.” He winks, hoping she picked up on his suggestion. A quirk of her perfectly arched eyebrow alerts him that she understood his subtle innuendo. “Well, not yet. Just a few more rows of shopping and then we’ll have them load the lorry.”

“I can wait.” She slides out of his grasp and leaves him to it. The young journalist continues her exploration of all the vendor stalls, asking to take photos of them and of their goods. The fragrance is exotic and possibly offensive to those who don’t appreciate these products in their simplest form, but she is loving every moment. She can’t believe she gets to experience this, and who with.

They have kept their eyes on each other while he negotiates and shops, and she allows her feet to take her down aisle after aisle. Now out of sight of Albus, she sighs deeply. She’s been playing it cool, but in truth, her heart is pounding out of her chest. There is something real between them—she can feel it, even if neither of them has said it directly. All the doubts that plague her mind are shrinking, giving way to excitement and anticipation.

After about thirty minutes, Albus finds her purchasing an impressive set of knives.

“Very nice. So how much did you spend?” He questions her.

“I just bat my eyelashes, and the nice man gave them to me,” he joked, but he didn’t seem amused. “Don’t worry. I got a good deal. And I _told_ you, I’m going shopping. You’re going to have a real hard time spoiling me if you run off.”

“Well, I’m done. Everything is packed and loaded.” He leans in and with a whisper adds, “I confunded the vendors, so they won’t remember me shrinking the truck. I was too lazy to drive it off.”

“You need to be careful. We don’t want the Japanese Ministry after you,” she scolds.

He rolls his eyes and silences any potential lecture. “So are you done shopping? I’m getting hungry.”

Polly stuffs all the knives but one in her bag and hands it to Albus. “I had them engrave _Shefu Albus_ on the handle. They have a machine to make customization quick by muggle means.”

“It’s gorgeous,” he holds it to the light inspecting the craftsmanship. Intricate wave patterns show the multiple layers of the Damascus steel. Albus knew it was expensive and can’t believe she would make such a grand gesture. “I love it.” Albus tucks the knife way in his bag, then pulls her in his arms in appreciation. Even with her heeled boots, she still only comes up to his lips. He places a kiss on the top of her head; it has become one of his favorite things to do.

“I’m glad you like it. So breakfast here at the market or are we going to check in to...a hotel? Hostel? Bed and Breakfast?”

“It’s a traditional style bed and breakfast. We’ll eat there tomorrow morning.” Polly’s smile makes him feel invincible. Like he could do no wrong. “Come on. Let’s grab something at some of the stalls then we’ll go to the _Mahō no Basho_.”

He laces his fingers with hers and kisses the back of her hand as they walk from stall to stall. First, they try oyakodon, a rice bowl topped with simmered chicken and egg, accompanied by a steaming bowl of collagen-rich chicken broth. It’s warm and comforting without feeling heavy. It was more than enough food to tie them over, especially considering this was technically their midnight snack, but the smells of the tamagoyaki rolled omelet, broiled scallop in its shell, and jumbo-sized onigiri rice ball, coming from all the vendors are just too tempting. By the end of their initial taste of Tokyo, the two are stuffed and ready for some rest.

—xoxox—

After finding a secure place to apparate, Albus takes them to the gate of an ancient temple in the heart of the city. The _torri_ stands stoically, leading to steep stone steps. Polly’s eyes grow wide in wonder.

“Was this magically or muggle built?” she asks him.

“Both,” he smiles. “The priests believe that those magically gifted are blessed by the spirits, and we need to be protected at all costs. In return, the wizards and witches protect them from things out of their control—war and natural disasters.”

“And I assume they also share our knowledge and lore?”

He nods in response. “It’s beautiful. The way the muggles and wizards co-exist. There is this respect for past, present, magic, nature, and spirituality that is more balanced than back home.”  

Polly slides her arm behind his back and rests her head on his chest. This philosophical side of him is one she hadn’t expected but is looking forward to hearing more from. Eager to enter the magical district, she asks, “So how do we get in? Is it like Diagon where we have to tap the bricks?”

“Sort of. Take out your wand,” he instructs her as they walk to the post of the gate. Discreetly, she removes her grapevine wand from her sleeve while he takes out his cherry wand. “See these markings?”

“Yes.”

“Trace the lines and but don’t use the harsh, staccato movement you use in Charms. Keep your wrists loose, like calligraphy.” He traces the first symbol causing it to glow, then fade when he doesn’t finish the phrase. “Got it?”

Polly practices the first symbol, but it doesn’t glow. Displeased with her work, she exhales and focuses as she tries again, but fails once more and Albus can see her getting frustrated.

“Maybe you’re just tired,” he says reassuringly as he takes her wand hand in his, and stands behind her. Together, they trace the pattern of the spell, illuminating it to a vibrant gold. They look through the gate, and gone are the stone steps. In its stead is a cherry blossom lined path leading to a large village reminiscent of Feudal Japan but with a few modern buildings mixed in.

“This is incredible.” She marvels, taking in the sweet scent of the sakura. “Dimensional magic? Like extension charms and what MACUSA uses?”

“Exactly. We’re on another plane in the same space as the modern Tokyo neighborhood.” He explains. “See, we are at an intersection of ley lines, so the magic here is so intense—there’s no way to describe it. You might feel some surges or even perform accidental magic.”

She scoffs, thinking he’s teasing her, “Accidental magic? Come on. What do you think, I’m twelve?”

“Don’t poke fun. It could happen,” he says mischievously.

At that moment a two-tailed, silver fox pup appears before them on the trail. She cocks her head as if examining them, and starts bounding in their direction.

Polly is almost breathless with excitement. Care of Magical Creatures was one of her favorite subjects and she went through a phase where she was obsessed with Japanese creatures in particular. “Is that a kitsune?”

“Yes it is,” he smirks. “And she’s coming to meet us.”

The little fox runs circles around them, waving her two tails excitedly.

“I thought kitsune had nine tails,” Polly examines with a childlike curiosity.

“Well, Miho is just a kid. She has to earn the other seven.” Albus smiles as the pup sits staring at them.  

“You know her name?”

Albus bends down to the little fox and says, “Miho, no need to be shy. This is my friend, Polly. Can you say hello?”

The pup nods and transforms into a little girl with silver pigtails, no older than eight-years-old. She jumps into his arms and screams, “Albus!”

“Hey, Miho. I’ve missed you. I want you to meet Polly. Can you say, hi?”

The girl waves her fingers and says, “You’re pretty.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Albus says with complete sincerity, peering into Polly’s brown eyes.

The woman in question bites her lip anxiously. There are so many things she would like to do and say to Albus but now was not the time. “Thank you, Miho. You’re very pretty too.”

“Miho, where is your uncle Yosh?” Albus asks accusingly. Her eyes go wide, and she transforms back into her kitsune form and hides behind Polly.

They hear footsteps running toward them. A handsome man, short in stature, with a shaved head, sharp cheekbones, and tattoos across his arms and chest come toward them. “MIHO!”

Polly and Albus look down at the little fox wondering what kind of trouble she has gotten into.

The man breathlessly claps his hand on Albus’s shoulder. “Al. Hey.”

“Long time no see.” They clap hands and pull each other into a hug, devoid of any awkwardness thanks to the friendship they had built over the years. “So how much trouble is Miho-chan in?”

“None,” he laughs. “I just couldn’t keep up with her. She knew you were coming. She had a vision this morning over breakfast and just ran out of the house.”

The little fox returns to her human form once more and faces her uncle. “Sorry, Ojisan.”

Not wanting her to think he forgot his manners, Albus wraps his arm around Polly’s shoulders and introduces her to his friend. “Yoshio Hioki, this is Polly Chapman. Polly. Yoshio. He’s Miho’s guardian, _and_ he’s also my tattoo artist.”

The Japanese man takes a more western approach and takes her hand and kisses it. “Pleasure to meet you, Polly.”

She blushes and replies, “Pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Enough,” Albus says with a twinge of ire in his voice, “besides, you’re too short for her.”

“Hey. I think I’m the perfect height for her.” Yoshio winks.

Polly laughs at the ridiculousness of their teasing and bickering.

“Let’s head to _Kagome Ryokan_ and check in,” Albus says, with an almost commanding tone while leading them down the path.

“Albus,” Polly teases, “are you getting jealous?”

He places a kiss on her lips, unable to say as much with words. “I am just ready to crawl into bed with you.”

Her lips capture his once more, relishing the possessiveness. Their bodies pulse with electricity. She’s not sure if it’s their long day coming to an end, or the supernatural forces surrounding them. As Albus slips his tongue into her mouth, it sends her senses wild. She can feel his magic thrumming through her body, without realizing what her own magic is doing. Hundreds of cherry blossoms begin to swirl around them creating the most beautiful blanket of pink. The two become lost in their kiss. Their connection feels beyond physical. It is as if their magic is communing with nature.

Only the giggles of a little girl snap them out of their haze. The two break their kiss, and the flowers gently fall around them. Albus can’t wipe his smile as he picks the sakura out of her hair. “I recall saying something about accidental magic…” His eyebrow quirks in a condescending, yet adorable way.

Polly’s face has turned a shade of pink deeper than that of the cherry blossoms. “I—I thought you were kidding.”

Yosh laughs, “Don’t beat yourself up. A lot of first-time visitors find it difficult to control their magic. Come on. I’ll show you to the inn.”

Albus takes her hand in his and kisses it, reassuring her that it wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about.

As they walk toward the town, Polly states, “Yosh, you and Miho speak English very well.”

“No, you speak Japanese very well,” he smirks.

The blue-haired beauty is utterly confused.

Miho takes Polly’s other hand and looks up, reading her mind. “ _Mahō no Basho_ has language spells. Everyone understands each other—the witches, wizards, and creatures.”  

“It goes back to the ley lines,” Albus further explains. “It’s more than just being a collection of magical beings. Take Hogwarts for example. There is a multitude of spells and wards on the castle, but it can’t support a translation charm because there isn’t enough spiritual energy. Ironically, a site on the other side of the Black Lake, where it meets Loch Moy, is a ley line convergence. Rumors are the architect was drunk when he surveyed the site, and that is where Hogwarts was supposed to be.”

“How do you—”

“ _Hogwarts: A History._ My best friend is Scorpius Malfoy. You think I wouldn’t pick up some of his nerdy random facts?”

Polly shakes her head remembering all the random stuff Scorpius would spurt while at school. When he and Rose became a couple, the geekiness was amplified, but that is what makes them work. She squeezes the little hand in hers and looks down at the little girl with the brilliant silver hair. “Miho, are you in school yet?”

“Yes. We start at Mahoutokoro at age seven, but don’t board until eleven. I come home every day, then help Uncle Yoshio,” she says proudly.

“Miho is a wonderful helper,” Yosh chuckles. “She puts all my inks in rainbow order and gets customers drinks.”

The little girl beams proudly and starts swinging Polly’s arm playfully.

“So how long are you two here for?” The artist asks.

“Until about one-thirty–two in the afternoon Monday. We have dinner reservations for tomorrow and the hot springs tomorrow morning, but today, we’re just going to explore.” Albus’s eyes flit in Polly’s direction, looking for approval of his plans. She beams brightly at all of his arrangements.

“So do you have time to sit and let me finally finish your shoulder?” Yosh says in a chastising manner.

Albus cringes knowing that was going to come up. “This is Pol’s first time in Japan and —”

“Do it,” she urges, “besides, I think I want to get a souvenir of my own.”

“Really?” He asks excitedly.

“I was thinking a cherry branch with the blossoms falling in a watercolor style. On my right shoulder.”

Yosh is impressed, “Did you come up with that just now?”

“Not exactly. I’ve been thinking about something delicate and floral for my shoulder for a while. It feels like a good way to remember this trip.” She squeezes Albus’s hand tightly, letting him know how much everything he has done, means to her.

He asks, “Have you had a good look at my wand?”

She snickers in response.

“Unbelievable,” he laughs while handing her his wand.

Polly examines the slender wand with its reddish hue and notices the rougher, natural handle. There are little knobs, and upon further inspection, she realizes they are buds. “Cherry?”

He nods his head, yes.

Now Polly is torn. On the one hand, she loves the design of the tattoo, on the other hand, it will forever remind her of Albus.

“We’re here!” Miho blurts, pointing at the Inn.

“I’m guessing you two are exhausted. It’s what? Five in the morning your time?” Yoshio asks.

Suddenly aware they’ve been awake almost twenty-four hours, Polly and Albus both yawn in unison.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Yoshio claps Albus on the shoulder. “Stop by around six for your appointment, and we’ll catch a late dinner and drinks.”

“Sounds good,” Albus says, mid-yawn. “See you then.”

Despite his forwardness earlier, Yosh manages to politely bow, saying goodbye to the couple. Miho being the adorable scamp she is, hugs both of them before taking her uncle’s hand and waving goodbye.

Polly yawns once more, the exhaustion taking hold.

“Baby, you coming?” Albus has the door of the Ryokan open waiting for her to join him.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. He said it again. Polly walks through the door and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took some liberties with traditional Japanese lore, and a lot of it came from Inuyasha. I loved how in that anime, the Shinto priests and priestesses were the protectors of magical objects connected to the spirits, and that the priests and priestesses themselves, could wield magic, in some form or another. So that is where that came from. Another Inuyasha reference comes from the name of the ryokan (inn). I named it Kagome after the lead character. A few more nods to the series will appear in future chapters. 
> 
> The legends of the kitsune are so varied. Everything from them being shapeshifters and seers, to being good, mischievous, evil, ancient, protective, etc. The only common thread is they are foxes. My adaptation to the wizarding world is that one only becomes kitsune by inheriting the trait, much like a morphamagus. You cannot be bitten like a werewolf, or learn the skill like an animagus. Also, lore dictates they earn a new tail every 100 years. I thought it would be interesting to have them gain a new tail after they discover a new skill. Miho has begun to discover her talents of divination and thus, her second tail. 
> 
> I wanted this place to have a lot of magic. Even more than Hogwarts. Now how would I explain that? So I started to think about what drew ancient mystics to build shrines, temples and monuments, what was the common thread — ley lines. Then I started to look at maps of ley lines and there is a convergence of lines in Tokyo. There is also a massive convergence of lines in Scotland, but how funny would it have been if they started building Hogwarts on the wrong site? That it was supposed to be on the other side of the lake, but at that point, it was too late to start over. I was also inspired by the Woolworth Building in Fantastic Beasts. The interesting thing was that wizards and no-majs enter through the same door, but end up in different buildings. The only way to explain it is they are on a different plane, hence dimensional magic. 
> 
> Alright, you now had an insight into what a total nerd I am, and how much research I went into this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	7. Words Don’t Come Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this relationship is getting real. Lots of food and Japanese references. Oh, and karaoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but the whole first bit is pretty lemony, and I couldn’t separate it from the plot because there is a lot of relationship building that happens in these intimate moments. Also, they’re getting comfortable with casual dirty talk in public.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Songs that inspired the chapter: (The Soundtrack is a work in progress, but here is the[link](https://open.spotify.com/user/123752610/playlist/043HltcAuHoPI0VWWGs0Gc)**   
>  [ **Midnight - Single Version – Jessie Ware** ](https://open.spotify.com/track/6uyndeNliD18m5R1rsVDgC)   
>  [ **Friday Night (feat. junggigo) – Mamamoo, Junggigo** ](https://open.spotify.com/track/1xlzLqAZ9wCrQ8aljO6yUO)   
>  [ **Say Something Loving – The xx** ](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Un8pn3cCHxkyEqnhcTQ0R)   
>  [ **Words Don’t Come Easy – Mamamoo** ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ZThxBqPFTEhYVUrDhFH4r)   
>  [ **Sweet Dreams, TN – The Last Shadow Puppets, Alex Turner, Miles Kane** ](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W0OCrMsRP1SLTEdw3JwEz)   
>  [ **Besame Mucho - Bonus Track- Great Expectations OST – Cesaria Evora** ](https://open.spotify.com/track/28hJLJrfLEa7vCvlqGGJXF)
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Beta:** Mama2HPBabies, MotherofBulls
> 
> Also, how adorable are my face casts for Albus and Polly? I composited photos of model, Sasha Storm, and actress Emeraude Toubia. I also had to create face casts for the original characters as well :)

****

* * *

**March 2030**

_ “Mmm…” _ Polly stirs as she felt Albus’s sweet kisses on her neck and bare shoulder.

They had showered before crawling into the futon but decided to forgo the pajamas. After sleeping with each other for a week, they are almost certain that neither of them owned night clothes. The minute their heads hit the pillows, they were out. They had succumbed to exhaustion, knowing were incapable of anything other than sleep.

In a deep gravelly growl, Albus says, “You’re so beautiful when you sleep.” His hands roam over her body while he teases the delicate skin on the inside of her thigh with his post-sleep erection.

She let out a sleepy chuckle, “You’re just saying that so I’ll have sex with you.”

“It’s true,” inching closer and closer to her entrance. “The being beautiful part  _ and  _ the wanting sex part.” He holds his hardened length in his hand and brushes it up against her center. It seems as though she is as ready as he is—her middle pools with wetness with every passing moment.

Polly looks over her shoulder to meet Albus with a good morning kiss. Her eyes flutter open and are once again entranced by his hypnotic stare. “You know this is so not fair. You with that deep, sexy voice and your ‘please fuck me’ eyes. I'm always going to say, yes.” She tilts her backside inviting him in.

“Mmm…” he groans as he slips into her creamy slit. “You're one to talk. This body, your luscious lips, and…your smile...I…”

“You what?” She moans, gently rocking with his movements.

“I can't get enough of you.” He cranes his neck to capture her kiss once more. “You’re just so  _ fucking hot.” _

The languid pace of their lovemaking is exactly how one should start their day—it gets the blood pumping but not in a way that induces manic behavior. It’s as gentle and warm as the rising sun, despite it technically being mid-day in Tokyo.

“Albus…” Polly sighs, “What time is it?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He brushes her hair back and gently nips at her ear lobes. “I’ll make sure we do everything you want to do.”

Her breath catches as he pulls her closer to him. Those strong, skilled hands of his massage her voluptuous curves and fondle her delectable nipples. She almost can’t think straight and the words spill out of her mouth. “And you, what do you want to do?”

“I’m already doing it.”

The sexiest laugh escapes her lips. “Seriously…”

“I am serious.” Wanting to further prove the point, he changes positions so that she can see his face. Now, hovering over her anxious body, he laces his fingers with hers, and places them on either side of her head. “All I want is you.” Wholeheartedly, he re-enters her in with deep, passionate thrusts.

She throws her head back in ecstasy as he takes her. Beneath him, she admires the way the sunlight peeks through the windows casting golden light over their skin, and how the rays highlight the determination and want on his face. When they are like this, there is no hiding. No pretense. It’s all in his eyes. The way he gazes into hers, he’s vulnerable and possessive—seeking a connection that transcends the physical.

Despite all of her convictions when it comes independence, she wants to be his and gives herself to him willingly. She arches her back upward, the pleasure overwhelming her, and moans, “I want you.”

“You have me.” He releases her fingers from his grip and presses his lips to hers, sealing this promise.

Polly envelops him with her whole body— her limbs like a vice, constricting, unwilling to let him go. They move as one. It’s not a competition or a need to impress. They are lovers who have found their balance between indulgence, the need to satiate one’s appetite, and comfort.

He rolls back on his knees and yanks her to meet him. Hungrily he takes her nipple in his mouth; sucking and scraping his teeth along the pebbled nub.

“Oh—” she exclaims. It’s the last coherent thing she mutters before her screams and moans become louder and more high pitched as she becomes further enraptured. Her hips begin bucking wildly, desiring both pressure and fullness. “I need—”

“What do you need, baby?” He asks while supporting her wild movements.

“You—” she gasps. The intensity sends shockwaves through their body and the cravings take hold. Polly and Albus capture each others mouths seeking that contact, engaging every one of their senses. Their tongues dip and swirl, hungry to taste one another. As they struggle for dominance, she captures his bottom lip between her teeth. She sucks and bites, but not hard enough to draw blood.

She breaks the kiss and rests her forehead on his, and can no longer focus on the intricacy of kissing. Her mouth is only capable of swear words and screaming.

“Shh…” he playfully begs, “the walls are only shoji screens.”

“What?” the words don’t quite register with her.

“I fucking love your screams, but the whole damn village is going to hear you.”

“Let ‘em.”

“Fuck.” At those wonderfully dirty words of hers, he scrambles to pick her up and take them to the private courtyard of their quarters and places her up on a wooden bistro table. Every discovery about her causes him to fall harder and harder for her. But if she wants people to hear her, they’re going to fucking hear her. Albus hooks her legs over his shoulders and drives as hard as he can, curious to see how loud she can scream. That sound is quite possibly the sexiest, most satisfying noise in the world. It is downright inspirational.

_ “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh Baby, I’m coming!” _ She hollers, arches her back as her walls clench around him.

_ “Oh, fuck!” _ Albus didn’t think he was ready to come just yet, but between her exquisite noises and her cunt wringing his cock like a towel, he can’t help it. This beautiful creature wants him and he wants her back. He hopes it is always like this—them in perfect sync.

Albus can barely stand. His legs quiver as he helps her off the table. “You…”

“You.”

—xoxox—

The innkeeper gives them both a cheeky smile. While Polly blushes, Albus gives him a wink as they leave for their exploration of Tokyo.

“I’m starved,” Albus says rubbing his belly. “I worked up quite the appetite.”

“As did I,” she concurs with a mischievous smirk.

“Want to explore the village or go back out to muggle Tokyo?” he asks.

“Here!” she exclaims excitedly. “I’ve heard Japanese skin potions are only second to the Koreans. Oh! And there is this hair straightening potion that supposed to last longer and more nourishing for your hair than Sleekeazy's.  _ And _ it works with colored hair.”

“Whoa, that’s my family legacy you’re insulting, there,” he mocks.

Polly pinches his chin and says, “No, Baby.  _ You’re _ your family’s legacy. But if you want me to use that potion, you’ll need to reformulate it. It’s antiquated.”

He laughs and tickles her sides. “Fine. Buy the potions. I’m not going into the beauty industry. It’s more cutthroat than culinary.”

She tiptoes and kisses him on the nose. “I’m so excited about shopping. I also want to get some prints or tapestries, and those cute socks, maybe some folklore books—”

“Okay, shopaholic. Food first. Curry or ramen?” He halts her excitedness. “The village has both and they are incredible.”

Polly pouts as he puts a damper on her plans but a loud grumble of her stomach proves Albus right. He cocks an eyebrow at her having heard it. “Fine. Ramen. We ate a lot of rice for breakfast.”

Albus takes her hand and kisses it. “Look, I promised you a good time. We have all weekend, and it’s not like we can’t come back.”

“Really?” she bites her lip, anxious at the promise of more escapes with him.

“What good is this gift if I can’t share it?” He leans in and kisses her in earnest. “I’ve been doing this solo for a long time, but it’s never been as much fun as it’s been with you.”

“Our trip just started a few hours ago—”

“And?”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” she swallows, her heart almost beating out of her chest.

He smiles and throws his arm around her neck pulling her in close, and kisses her on top of her head. “I guess I have a lot of work to do for you to start believing me. Come on.”

Together they walk down the cobbled street, while Albus drapes his arm over her shoulder with her fingers laced with his. They notice this type of affection isn’t common with the Japanese and they get the odd look here and there, but they aren’t bothered by it. If anything, they’re flaunting it. This is their public declaration.

Outside of the ramen restaurant, Polly notices a family climbing out of a well, and she looks at them curiously.

“They use wells instead of fireplaces for their travel network,” Albus explains.

“Ah, I remember reading that. Where most of our magic is connected to the fire element, a lot of Japanese magic is connected to water,” she thinks back to her difficulty performing the spell at the gate. “That’s why I had so much trouble. My movements weren’t fluid enough.”

“The more we travel together, the more you’ll tune into all your elemental magic,” he reassures her. With a smirk he says, “You have more fire than anyone I’ve been with, that’s for sure.”

She has trouble suppressing her grin, “Albus Potter. You need to stop that or we’re not going to have lunch and I’ll drag you back to the inn or an alley right now.”

The smells from the restaurant waft through the air and the two begin salivating. Albus sighs, “I’m probably going to regret saying this, but I think hunger wins over sex this time.”

Polly gives him and mock pout as he escorts her through the sliding glass door.

True to the  _ omotenashi _ philosophy, the waitress welcomes the patrons to the restaurant with the utmost hospitality. The restaurant is small; it could probably only seat twenty customers at a time. The photographs on the walls are old and faded with the menu in large Japanese characters with photos of the dishes above them. The longer Polly and Albus stare at the script, it transforms into English. The hostess seats them close to the kitchen after Polly explains she’s a food journalist and would like to take photos.

Albus leans back and watches her work as he waits for their meal. She takes her job as seriously as he does, and he can’t help but admire it.

The chef allows her back in the kitchen but requires her to wear a cap and jacket. While in the kitchen she asks him questions about his ingredients, how long it takes for him to create the different stocks, and his family’s history as ramen cooks. The chef is on the younger side and is slightly enamored by the attractive reporter, and gleefully answers every one of her questions. Polly couldn’t be more thankful there is a translation charm in place over the village. There is no way she would be this candid with a muggle chef. After her miso ramen and Albus’s tonkotsu ramen are carefully assembled, she returns to the dining room and joins him. Awaiting her are  _ oshibori _ , damp towels, for her to clean her hands. Albus taps them with his wand, returning them to their original, warm state.

Large, steaming bowls of hot noodle soup arrive. A top the hand-stretched, wheat noodles, sit a variety of colorful vegetables, thin-sliced pork, and medium-boiled eggs with the most golden yolks they have ever seen, all in a rich, cloudy broth. The smell is intoxicating. The layers of pork, chicken, garlic, onion, ginger, miso, wakame — all of the contributing flavors to create the  _ umami _ experience, are there. They both dig in, eager to try the homey delicacies.  

“Holy shit,” Polly says with her mouth full of noodles. “This is incredible.”

Albus slurps his noodles loudly and nods. He’s too hungry to talk and just wants to continue stuffing his face.

They steal tastes from each other’s bowls, amazed at how good the food is from such a humble establishment. Somehow, the two manage to finish everything in the giant bowls. Stuffed and satisfied, they pay and bow, thanking the chef and hostess for the meal.

As promised, they shop and shop and shop. While Polly grabs everything in sight, from robes to beauty products to books to art, Albus is a bit more selective but no more frugal. He purchases rare books, exquisite artifacts, and exotic ingredients at the apothecary. Her curiosity gets the best of her, and she can’t help but peek at the price tags. It dawns on her that  Albus must be either incredibly wealthy or he’s blowing his whole inheritance trying to impress her. If it’s the latter, she is going to insist on paying for her souvenirs.

“Al,” she asks, “how are you able to afford all of this if you haven’t worked in five years and have only been training and apprenticing?”

“Pol. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.”

“No, but seriously. You don’t need to impress me. I have my own money—”

Slightly perturbed he says, “Money isn’t an issue. I promise.”

Her stubbornness can’t help but push the issue. “Albus. I will return everything I just bought and repurchase it if you don’t tell me how we can afford all this.”

He rubs his temples, not expecting to have this conversation, in public no less. “I know you’re not going to let up, so I’ll tell you. You promise not to tell anyone?”

Now she’s slightly nervous. Her mind wanders and wonders if he is involved in some type of illegal trade, or money laundering, but tries not to let her imagination get the best of her. “Yes. I promise.”

“Remember that sobering potion Scorp and I created when we were at school?” he fidgets with his fingers, wishing they were outside so he could have a smoke.

“Fondly,” she smiles, remembering how it saved her a few times back in her Hogwarts days.

“We patented and licensed it to an American potions company and receive royalty checks every month,” he explains shyly. “But part of the deal is we are under a non-disclosure agreement so no one really knows that’s how we make our money or that we were the creators. Neither of us  _ have _ to work for the rest of our lives. We choose to. So. Yeah…”

Polly’s mouth gapes open, dumbstruck. “So like,  _ how _ much?”

Albus feels knots growing in his stomach. He has never been comfortable talking about money, but damn it, she is relentless today. Having trouble recalling how much he earns, especially as as he rarely checks his statements, he does the math in his head and hesitantly says, “With the exchange rate, around eighty thousand galleons a month from the royalties, but my portfolio dividends fluctuate.”

“Wait,” she takes her phone out and starts punching numbers into the calculator. “You make my monthly salary in six hours.”  

“Enough money talk,” he sighs, becoming more uncomfortable. Albus had bad experiences with girls who knew about his inheritance, and most definitely attempted to take advantage of him. Even only a select few in his family know about the money he’s made on his own. He just hopes this won’t ruin things between he and Polly. “Let’s just drop these things off at the inn and head to our tattoo appointment.”

Feeling guilty that she pushed the subject, she says, “I’m sorry. It’s just when you started spending all the money on me, my independent side came over, and I just didn’t want you going overboard or feel like you had to show off for me or anything. This doesn’t change how I feel about you, okay?”

He squeezes her hand letting her know things were alright. “Good. Let’s just have fun and know that we have no restrictions. Okay?”

“Okay.” She wraps her arms around his waist, reassuring him that she’s not going anywhere, nor does she have any plans on using him for his money. “I just want you, okay. I wouldn’t care if you were a line cook working paycheck to paycheck.”

Albus embraces her tightly. Her words are precisely what he needs to hear. He’s not an idiot and knows she has fears about being with him. Albus Severus Potter doesn’t exactly have the resume that would define him as ideal boyfriend material—lack of stability (well, until recently), never having been in a long-term relationship and a shit track record with women. Despite all of this, she took a chance on him. Whatever happened in the past is the past, and he now knows that those relationships didn’t work out because they weren’t  _ her _ . Polly understands him. She doesn’t care about his family, status, or money. Hell, she even calls him on his shit, and he appreciates it. The only other person capable of doing that is Scorpius. That in itself is a sign.

“Polly, earlier, at the inn, I meant what I said. You have me.”

Her eyes grow wide at his confession. “So it wasn’t just sex talk?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

They lean in close to kiss, but the otherwise romantic confession is interrupted, by an older woman asking the pair to move out of the way so she can reach for items on the shelf behind them. The two laugh realizing they just had an incredibly pivotal moment in their relationship in the middle of some random store.

This time it’s Polly taking the lead, “Let’s go. I think we have a little bit of time before our appointment.”

—xoxox—

“You’re late,” Yoshio scolds Albus and Polly as they walk into the tattoo parlor.

“What’s new?” Albus shrugs as Polly blushes, knowing exactly the reason for their tardiness.

Miho brings out a tray with two iced  _ matchas _ for her customers. They gladly accept the beverages and drown the glasses, not realizing how thirsty they were.

“Thank you, Miho,” Albus bows.

The little girl giggles and scampers off.

“She’s so cute!” Polly practically squeals.

Yoshio brings a woman with short green hair that’s shaved on the side revealing a Japanese style lion tattooed on her scalp. The rest of her tattoos are below the neckline and don’t go past the wrists.

“Polly, this is Kimiko. She’s my best watercolor artist.” Yosh introduces the women and they shake hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Polly smiles.

“Same,” Kimiko smirks giving Polly a look up and down.

“Kimi. What? You’re going to be all professional and not say hi?” Albus holds his arms out, impatiently waiting for his friend to acknowledge his presence.

“Calm your tits,” she punches him on the shoulder before giving him a hug. “I was checking out your girlfriend. She’s super hot. Like way too hot for  _ you _ .  _ Me _ on the other hand...”

“Sorry, Kimi. I can guarantee she prefers dick,” Albus casts a glance over toward Polly and gives her a wink.

Her face goes hot with embarrassment, feeling like the odd one out during this reunion. Though, she did notice that Albus didn’t correct Kimiko when she called Polly,  _ his girlfriend _ .

“Such a shame,” Kimi sighs. “Oh, Taka and Kenji will be stopping by. They had the day off but heard you were in town.”

“Cool.” He replies.

“Albus, take off your shirt and get on the bench,” Yoshio hollers.

“Coming, Master Yoshio,” he replies in sarcastic sing-song, before turning to Polly. “This will be fun. Kimi will take great care of you. She’s funny and will keep you distracted.”

She gives him a quick peck, “You know I have tattoos, right? I’ve been inked before.”

“I know, but working with a new artist can always push you out of your comfort zone.”

“You’re so damn cute, but you better lay down or Yoshio digs in extra hard just as a punishment.”

“Eeks. You’re probably right.” He sneaks in one more kiss before preparing for his session.

“You too, sexy,” Kimiko winks. “Shirt off. You can leave the bra on as long as the strap can can be moved.

“Shit,” remembering she was wearing a racerback bra. “I guess I’m going topless. Do you have a towel or something?”

She laughs as she says, “As much as I would love to see Albus squirm having your tits on display, we have paper gowns that open in the back.”

“I appreciate it,” Polly smiles.

Kimiko points toward the back of the parlor, “gowns are in the bathroom for you to change.”

As Polly changes, Albus gets comfortable on the bench.

Yosh inspects the outlines and prepares Albus’s skin before starting. “The outlines still look good. I see you’ve toned up. What have you been doing?”

“Gardening and opening a new restaurant,” he replies. “Combination hard work and stress.”

As Yoshio shaves the area, he asks, “You’re about to launch a new restaurant, but decide to take a girl on holiday?”

“She’s a food writer and photographer,” Albus smirks, not like Yoshio can see his facial expressions, while face down.

“Is she now?” The artist laughs. “So you found your dream girl, didn’t you?”

Right on cue, she returns from the bathroom, and Kimiko instructs Polly to lay on the bench opposite of Albus. She pulls her long, blue waves up into a messy bun atop of her head. Even wearing a ridiculous paper gown, Albus still thinks she’s the sexiest, most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. She settles herself on the padded leather table and props her chin on her forearm. Polly flashes Albus a brilliant smile for no other reason than being happy.

He licks his lips and smiles back. “Yeah, Yosh. I think I have.”

“You are so pussy-whipped.” He shakes his head and finally gets to complete the work on the ornate koi he started on Albus’s upper right shoulder months ago.

Kimiko rolls her stool near Polly and takes out a notebook and has her wand and pencil in hand. “Alright, Polly. So Yoshio says you want sakura to commemorate this trip. I have a few ideas and I sketched them out.” She flips to the first sketch but doesn’t reveal them to Polly. “Before I show you, I noticed that all your tats are static. Why is that?”

“I’m a food journalist and I work with a lot of muggles. I can’t exactly have a magical tattoo easily visible.”

Kimiko smugly says, “Well, we have a fix for that. Any tattoos you get here and will be charmed to be static when seen by muggles, but animated to the magical eye. But just like you need to get color touched up, you’ll need to get the charms touched up.”

“Oh, that’s some brilliant magic.”

“Just wait.” Kimiko quirks her lip up in a half-smile and turns around the notebook. At first it’s a beautiful watercolor rendering of a cherry blossom branch with small buds and falling blossoms. Polly has to look carefully, and realize that it wasn’t watercolor but pencil.  _ Oh, she’s good,  _ she thinks to herself. “I did it in pencil so that you can see that I can create the watercolor effect no matter what medium I’m working in. Now,” She taps the notebook with her wand, and the blossoms begin fluttering down in an endless loop.

“That’s beautiful,” she says in awe.

“Thank you, but these short loops can get a bit boring after a while. So we can do a longer loop and show the branch through all the seasons.” Kimiko gives the illustration a tap again, and all the cherry blossoms fall, giving way to little buds. Then the slow growth of fruit, which eventually fall leaving an exposed, bare branch. Finally, new buds and blossoms form, completing the cycle. “But if you don’t like the loops, you can have the tattoo mimic the seasons in real time so that you’re always connected to here.”

“Merlin, there are so many options,” she says, sounding overwhelmed.

“But, you can do the simplest, but I also find it the most meaningful,” she smiles. “You can tie the animation to memory. You’ll always have this,” she taps the drawing one last time, returning it the original drawing, “but the sakura will only fall when you reminisce on your time here.”

“That one. That sounds  _ perfect,”  _ Polly closes her eyes imagining what it will look like and the memories that will activate it. There have only been a few so far, but she already cherishes them. She already knows the rest of the weekend will be incredible and knows she never wants to forget any of this.

“Alright. Memory-triggered animation it is!” Kimiko states. “Alright, I’m going to prepare the area and mark the general size and have you look in the mirror. If you’re okay with it, I’ll be free-handing everything else. Are you okay with that?”

“Absolutely,” Polly says confidently.

“Excellent. And we are staying with shades of pink and gray?”

“You can go warmer if you want. Whichever you think you think best compliments my skin and the composition.”

“Thank you. I was thinking of going with warmer grays and maybe some reddish browns in the branch, but I wanted your approval first,” she says as she cleans and prepares Polly’s shoulder. “So...is there any other meaning to the cherry tree?”

Polly worryingly bites her lip, wondering if she knows about Albus’s wand. “Nope. I just thought it was pretty and it was one the things I was most looking forward to seeing here.”

“Miho told me about the blossoms,” Kimi laughs as she marks the beginnings of the outline in marker. “She was going on and on about how romantic it was. Yosh needs to stop letting her watch so many dramas on TV.”

“Oh, God. That’s embarrassing,” Polly cringes. “I hadn’t had an accidental magic mishap since I was ten.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It was pretty romantic,” she smirks. “Okay, go look in the mirror.”

She looks over her shoulder. “That doesn’t look too big. I like the overall placement.”

“It’s hard to tell now, but the placement is intentional in regards to you scapula and muscles.”

“You’re brilliant. Alright. Let’s do this.”

—xoxox—

An hour and a half passes and they all chat candidly. Polly is comfortable—despite her skin being repeatedly punctured—with Albus’s group of friends. She wonders how many friends he has around the world, that know him this well. All of these people have contributed to who he is now, opposed to who he was when they were in school.

“Okay, everyone. I’m taking a little dinner break. I need to feed Miho and make sure she gets to bed.” Yoshio tells three others in the room.

“I should be done with Polly in an hour,” Kimiko interjects and turns to her client. “Do you want a break, or can you keep going?”

“I’m not hungry. If you’re not, let’s just wrap this up.”

Kimiko nods, “Sounds good.” And continues her work.

“Well, I need a smoke,” Albus says as he slides off the bench, his body stiff. He peeks in the mirror at the progress. “Yosh!” He hollers to the back to the shop, where the stairs to the private quarters are.

“What?” he screams in response.

“How much longer until I’m done?”

“Maybe two hours.”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, not really wanting it to take that much time. His eyes flash over in Polly’s direction and gaze at her bare back. His eyes follow the sway of her lower back to the little valley above her hips, which remind him of how much he enjoys being behind her. He could just lick her well-sculpted back muscles, and the way the sides of her breasts just taunt him. Yeah...he really doesn’t want to be here over an hour after Polly finishes.

Albus squats so he can be eye level with her. “So, I’m going to tell Yosh, to stop whenever Kimi is done with you. I’m not really in the mood to finish this tonight. Besides, it gives an excuse to come back.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.”

He gives her a quick kiss before heading outside, and Kimiko just rolls her eyes at how obnoxiously cute they are.

—xoxox—

“All done,” Kimiko says as she smooths a healing salve over the tender skin. “This is an instant-heal ointment, so you don’t have to worry about scabbing or aftercare.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” she says excitedly, until she feels it activate. It burns, then itches, then finally cools. “Whoo!” she winces. “That was everything all at once.”

“Yeah, I should have probably warned you. But you’re good to go.”

Polly slowly climbs off the bench; atrophy has taken over parts of her body after staying still for nearly three hours. Combined with the exhaustion of jet lag, all she can think of is getting a bite to eat and more sleep. She hears Albus yelp, signaling his session is over as well. He exchanges profanities with Yoshio, but it’s all in good fun. Once she feels the blood return to her appendages, she walks to the mirror to examine her new art. Polly gasps. It’s even more beautiful than she imagined. The pink cherry blossoms fall down her back lazily as if caught in a gentle breeze.

Albus steps in front of her, puts his hands on her hips, causing the paper gown to crinkle. He leans down and places a soft kiss on her exposed neck. “That’s gorgeous.”

Goosebumps form along her skin as her body reacts to not being touched by him for so long. Her fingers run along his shoulder and he twists so she can examine the incomplete black and orange carp. “You should have let Yosh finish.”

He shrugged, “Not a big deal. This trip is about us doing things together, and we did. Wanna get out of here and get some dinner before bed?”

“That sounds perfect,” she leans up to kiss him, but raucous screaming comes from the entrance.

“ALBUS!” Two drunken men holler.

“Will you two shut the fuck up!” Yoshio seethes. “Miho is sleeping upstairs.”

“Ooh. Sorry.” The man with a clean undercut and side lip ring responds to his boss.

Albus whispers in Polly’s ear, “Go get dressed and I’ll introduce you.”

She nods and heads to the bathroom.

The other man with a modern version of a top knot whistles as he watches Polly walk away. “Holy fuck. That one’s yours, Al?”

“Nice to see you too, Kenji,” Albus shakes his head, “Come here you fucking perv.” He gives Kenji a hug before giving a hug to the other man.

“Tsk Tsk,” The man with the undercut scolds. “You come all this way and don’t let Yosh finish his work.”

Albus rolls his eyes and pulls on his t-shirt. “Taka, I promised Polly a good time and this is her first time in Japan. I can’t spend it all in this shop.”

“Okay, fair,” Taka tilts his head in understanding. “Though I can’t help but notice, she’s the first woman you’ve brought with you on a trip.”

“Except Lily,” Kenji remembers. “How is she?”

“Still a lesbian,” Albus replies.

Kimiko produces the haughtiest smirk and shrugs her eyebrows.

The two men’s eyes widen in disbelief.

Polly returns dressed and her makeup refreshed. Albus smiles and drapes his arm over her shoulders and kisses the top of her head. “Taka, Kenji, this is Polly.”

“Nice to meet you,” she presents her hand.

Taka slides in first and kisses her and Kenji steals it after him.

“I can’t believe all four of you fucks hit on her today,” Albus sounds mock annoyed, “Seriously. The kissing on the hand? But if I was giving out points, Kimiko has the most game.”

She gives a boastful laugh in her pseudo victory as her fellow artists just shrug their shoulders, admitting it is probably true.

“Al,” Kenji slurs. “You eat dinner yet?”

“Polly and I were about to—”

“Join us for yakitori and karaage,” Taka invites them.

“Oh that sounds good,” Kimi says while putting on her jacket.

Albus looks down at Polly and she bites her lip excitedly, “You wanna go with them?”

“Sounds like fun. Besides, we’ll have guides and we know they’re good company,” she pleads with a flutter of her lashes.

He just can’t resist her arsenal of will-weakening gazes. The little pouts and curl or her lips, or the casual little wink. Polly’s manipulation tactics aren’t that of a skilled Slytherin—it’s all natural. Caving, he responds, “We’re in.”

“I’ll come out for one stop, but my grandmother is much too old to take care of Miho if she wakes,” Yosh explains. “Let me go upstairs and tell her where I’m going, then I’ll lock up and ward the shop.”   

They nod and start heading out.

“Only three more years until Miho’s off to boarding school,” Taka says with a twinge of sadness.

“Yeah, Yosh is going to be crushed, but maybe he’ll finally start dating when she does,” Kimi adds.

“She’s looking more and more like Suki every day,” Kenji sniffles before popping a cigarette in his mouth.

Albus also lights up a cigarette and explains to Polly in a whisper. “Suki was Miho’s mother, Yoshio’s big sister. She passed when Miho was only five. Wrong place. Wrong time. A nuclear power plant exploded and she was flying past. It wasn’t the blast that got her, but the radiation poisoning.”

Her heart sinks imagining losing her older brother and if she was left to take care of her niece. “How old is Yosh?”

“Twenty-seven,” Taka answers.

“He’s never complained about it. Not once,” Kenji comes to the defense of his friend, though no one said anything directly. “He loves his grandmother and Miho. He’s just happy he still has them.”

Polly starts to put the pieces together that no one has mentioned his parents or Miho’s father, and hope someone changes the subject.

“Polly?” Taka pipes up, trying to get her attention. “So this is really your first time in Japan?”

She smiles shyly, “Yes.”

Kimi looks at her two friends and then back to Albus and Polly, before hollering, “Karaoke!”

“Oh, fuck no,” Albus winges.

Polly’s eyes go wide as if Kimiko said the one thing that could ruin this trip.

“But you have a beautiful voice, Albus,” Kimi pleads.

“Do you remember how drunk and stoned you had to get me before I did that?”

“Yes,” Kenji says as he slips out a tin with pre-rolled joints.

Polly picks up one of the joints and runs it under her nose and inhales its fragrance, “Oh, this is nice.”

Albus smirks and lights the tip of his wand, encouraging her to take a puff. She takes short hits until its fully lit, then a deep inhale of the smoke. Polly laughs at herself as she coughs. “Jesus it’s been forever since I’ve smoked.” She passes it to Albus, he takes a few hits and then passes it to Kimiko.

“So Karaoke?” Taka asks.

“You know, back in school, Al, his best friend, Scorpius, and his cousin were in a band,” Polly reveals as she takes the joint back from Kimiko. “They would sneak out of the castle and gig on the weekends. They were pretty good.”

“Shut up, Pol,” he pinches her playfully, but she just blows smoke in his face.

“Oh, I heard this rumor that Professor Longbottom used to grow weed when he was a student.”

“Hey. That’s my godfather...and I’m not surprised.” He chuckles.

Yoshio finally makes it down and they all head to muggle Tokyo. The head down a street lined with  _ izakaya _ after  _ izakaya.  _ Some of the tiny Japanese pubs can fit at most ten people, they find it tricky at first to accommodate their group of six. When they finally find a place, they gorge themselves on various skewered meats, fried chicken, sashimi, rice, and pretty much everything on the menu as the munchies are in full effect. Things get more interesting after the beer and sake start flowing.

“Babe, you haven’t taken any pics.”

_ “I’m too high.” _

They laugh uncontrollably and clink glasses before taking big swigs of their sake.

After the group have their fill, Albus offers to pay for everything, thanking his friends for their hospitality. They try to refuse, but he insists. Reluctantly, they accept after Polly pleads—surprisingly the batting of her lashes and pout works on them easier than it does on Albus. As they exit the little restaurant, Yoshio bids farewell to his friends and Apparates home, passing on the drunken singing.

Thankfully the karaoke bar is only a few blocks away. The fresh spring air and walking gives them the opportunity to sober up. Polly and Albus snap photos of the Tokyo nightlife and manage to even get a few of themselves together. Even in a drunken and drugged haze, they can’t help but appreciate everything around them and spending this time together. Albus and Polly hang back from the group for a while and enjoy a moment in the city together, alone. He pushes her up against a wall eager to taste her plump lips once more.

“Hey!” Kimiko calls to the couple. “Come on!”

Albus groans, “I can Apparate us out of here right now.”

“We can’t flake. It would be rude,” she says creeping her hand over the bulge in his pants. “I promise I’ll take care of you later.”

His eyes roll to the back of his head already imagining it. “I want those pretty lips of yours around my cock.”

“As long as you eat me.”

“Fuck yes, I will.”

Kimiko grabs Albus by the back of his jacket, “Uh-uh. You two are not fucking in public. Time for us to sing terrible pop songs.”

Reluctantly they follow along, wondering why they agreed to this.

All in all, it’s not terrible. They’re in a private room, so embarrassment it kept to a minimum. Taka and Kenji do a hilarious rendition of the classic, “It’s Tricky,” by Run DMC, complete with 80s old skool hip-hop moves. Kimiko tapped into her inner rocker and belted out, “KARATE,” by Babymetal.

Albus takes the stage and shakes out his nervousness, “So, I just want to let you know how much I fucking hate you guys and it took me forever to find a song by a proper, British rock band,” he pauses to hear them groan, “I’ve been in love with this band since I was a little kid and was pretty shocked to see this on the list. So this is  _ Sweet Dreams, TN _ by The Last Shadow Puppets.” Locking eyes with Polly, he let her know that he picked the song for her. He places the microphone on the stand and holds it with both hands, looking like he’s sung on stage a million times before. With a nod, Taka presses play.

_ I just sort of always feel sick without you baby _

_ I ain't got anything to lick without you baby _

_ Nothing really sticks without you baby _

_ Ain't I fallen in love? _

_ It's just the pits without you baby _

_ It's really just the pits without you baby _

_ It's like everyone's a dick without you baby _

_ Ain't I fallen in love? _

_ And all my pals will tell me that I'm crazy _

_ You bet I'm loopy alright! _

_ And I just don't recognize this fool that you _

_ Have made me, _

_ I haven't seen him for a while _

_ And as you're shrinking figure blows a kiss _

_ I catch and smash it on my lips _

_ Darling I can't seem to quit _

_ Completely falling to bits _

_ I really might be losing it _

_ The idea that you've existed all along's _

_ Ridiculous _

_ I don't know what to say _

He continues to sing and hasn’t looked at the prompter once. It’s one song that he has committed to memory. Though the song was written when they were just kids it’s the  _ most perfect _ song. Albus takes the mic off the stand and starts walking toward her. She plays with her lips nervously, unable to suppress any of her feelings. She’s giddy, embarrassed, excited, and  _ SUPER _ turned on. He stands over her as he belts out the last line. While the music plays out, his friends clap and cheer loudly and he takes a seat next to Polly passing her the microphone.

She yanks him by the shirt and whispers in his ear, “You’re so getting fucked, you know that, right?”

“You’re next,” he smirks.

Lust in her eyes, she coquettishly takes the stage and has to lower the height of the stand. “So, this is a very old song, but it’s stood the test of time, and I’m singing it in Spanish.”

Albus looks at her with surprise and she gives him a wink.

She sways her hips slowly to the rhythmic guitar, sultry saxophone, and tinkling of the piano, “ _ Besame, besame mucho, Como si fuera esta noche la última vez…”  _ she sings. Maybe it’s the Spanish, maybe it’s just Polly, but the woman and three men are completely entranced. Not a word or joke is muttered as she sings. Honestly, they don’t even know if she’s that great of a singer, but they can’t take their eyes off of her. As she finishes her song, they’re still in stunned silence. “Was it that bad?”

Albus shakes his head. “Te quiero.”

“¿Verdad?”

“Si.”

“¿Cuando?”

“Ahora.”

“Adios,” she calls to their new friends summoning all of her things.

Albus throws some money on the table and winks to Kenji, Taka, and Kimiko. He tries to say goodbye—but when Polly has the strength of a giant when she is eager—and yanks him away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is a long ass chapter. I know. I just couldn’t stop. There are a lot of fun little things in this chapter that I hope you caught.
> 
> —
> 
> Besame Mucho is one of the most beautiful songs of all time and comes back around as a cover every generation. I just really wanted to see Polly speak Spanish.
> 
>  _Besame, besame mucho, Como si fuera esta noche la última vez_ translates to Kiss me, kiss me a lot, As if tonight were the last time.
> 
> Gorgeous, right?
> 
> —
> 
> The little conversation between Albus and Polly is pretty short and simple. But still hot. This is the translation:
> 
> I want you.
> 
> Really?
> 
> Yes.
> 
> When?
> 
> Now.
> 
> —
> 
> So Albus singing The Last Shadow Puppets is also an Easter egg. MotherofBulls and I wrote a funny little story called, [**Albus, Meet Albus: A Play in One Act**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11548062), and the band make a guest appearance. I had to bring their music back for this story.
> 
> —
> 
> I’ve also been watching a Japanese TV show called Samurai Gourmet. It’s given me a lot of insight on traditional Japanese cuisine and service.
> 
> —
> 
> If you want to check out some of my other WiPs, MotherofBulls and I are working on an outrageously ridiculous crack fic called, Trope Soup. Also, as soon as this fic is complete, I’m back to writing A Girl Worth Fighting For and Drama Club.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review. I’m also on tumblr: harrypotterandthegobletofwine and Facebook: saintdionysuswriter.


	8. If You Let Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are at the end of our holiday, but not without some more cheeky moments, delicious food, and the couple just being a couple.
> 
> WARNING: There is a lemon jump for anyone wanting to skip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the some 400 or so folks who have stopped by FFN and AO3 to read this story. While I know Polly and Albus aren’t Dramione, I think they’re pretty special, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for taking a chance and reading this story. 
> 
> Sooooo much love to Alyne who is a ray of sunshine and leaves the best comments. Thanks for your love on all my fics. xoxo
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Gryff_inTheGame who wanted food kink, like bad. She is an enabler. It’s also dedicated to my beta/writing partner, MotherofBulls, who has been cheering me on through this writing process. Also, Albus and Polly are goals.
> 
> Beta: Mama2HPBabies, MotherofBulls
> 
> Songs that inspired the chapter:  
> Tokyo – Lianne La Havas  
> Sunshine (feat. Miguel) – KYLE, Miguel  
> bath – offonoff  
> If You Let Me – Sinead Harnett, GRADES  
> Warm On A Cold Night – HONNE  
> Unstoppable - FKJ Remix – Lianne La Havas  
> F*ck Me & Feed Me – Rendezvous At Two

“Polly,” he nudges her shoulder gently. “Baby, wake up.”

She throws the blanket over her face and mumbles. “Albus. It’s still dark.”

“Come on,” he pleads. “I want to take you to see the sunrise.”

“Ugh. Why? I liked how you woke me yesterday, better,” she pouts.

“You are worse of a morning person than I am.”

“Yes. Just come back to bed. It’s all cold without you,” she rubs the spot where he should be laying. Twenty-four hours is definitely not enough time to get used to the time difference. Their little nap yesterday and the less than five hours she is waking up from is not enough to keep her going.

If he’s going to get her out of bed, he realizes he needs another tactic. Albus plays along and slides back under the covers, even though he is fully dressed and she’s not. His warm hand runs down her side and gently starts rubbing and massaging her glutes. While sensual, he knows they did a lot of walking...and other strenuous activities yesterday. She begins to purr under the kneading of her tense muscles.

“Polly, We can’t visit the _Land of the Rising Sun_ and not watch it at least once.” His hand glides to her thighs, and her eyes roll back as she blissfully smiles. She’s literally putty in his hands and continues in his sweetest, most persuasive voice, “We’ll just catch the sunrise. You don’t have to get properly ready. I’m just wearing joggers and a hoodie. We’ll come back here for breakfast, then hot springs, maybe some street food, art galleries, and our big dinner. We’ll even sleep in tomorrow. What do you say?”

“It’s a good thing you’re cute and have strong hands,” she says, sounding as though she was ready to concede. “Alright. We’ll go see this bloody sunrise— _but—_ you owe me a massage while we’re in the hot spring.”

“Deal.” He smiles at the little victory. She might be protesting it now, but he knows she’ll be singing another tune when their feet touch down on the beach.

Polly quickly washes her face and brushes her teeth. She passes on the makeup for now, but still moisturizes and spritzes a bit of perfume. After pulling on an oversized jumper, leggings, and trainers, she twirls her hair into a messy bun. Albus hands her camera over, hinting that she will want to take photos. Perturbed, she rolls her eyes as she takes it. He laughs at how grumpy she is without sleep and coffee.

Albus has to practically drag her to an Apparition point as dawn is breaking. They arrive on a secluded beach with a lone _torii_ gate, just as the sun begins to rise. The sky is brilliant shades of red, orange, and gold, and the celestial object that it is, truly looks otherworldly.

“The sun is so _big_ ,” she says quietly stunned.

He kisses her on the top of her head sweetly. “So you forgive me for waking you up so early.”

“I guess,” she grins before holding her camera up to shoot a few photos. When she isn’t looking, he takes a few himself, not of the sun, but her.

“Don’t take _too_ many photos. Just be in the moment.” He stands behind her and rests his chin on her shoulder, curling his arms around her waist.

She takes his words to heart and lets the camera hang around her neck while she tilts her head against his and scratches his morning scruff.

The smell of the ocean, the breeze kissing their skin, the warm glow around them, the sounds of the seabirds, and the salt forming on their lips. It’s everything he promised—a trip that will engage every single one of her senses.

Nuzzling closer into him, she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for this.”

“You don’t have to,” he kisses her temple. “Just being with you is all I need.”

Polly tilts her head to kiss him. “You know, it’s going to be impossible for you to get rid of me, right?”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere without you.”

She turns to face him and swings the camera to the side. Her eyes gaze up at his, and he rests his forehead to hers. Their lips hover over each other, about to kiss, but she interrupts and asks, “Do you believe in fate? That everything is supposed to happen for a reason.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard this or not, but my family has this thing about prophecies,” he teases. “But I’m guessing you’re talking about the fact we’ve known each other most of our lives and just now took notice?”

Polly nods, “I don’t think it would have worked any other time until now. We needed to grow and change. I wasn’t happy with who I was then, and now you’re so…”

“So what?”

“Perfect.”

“I’m far from perfect.”

“Perfect for me.” Polly nervously bites her lip in the way she knows Albus loves.

He swallows hard, hiding the fact he could easily scream to the top of his lungs with excitement, but that’s not cool at all. A tightness forms in his chest wondering how this can be happening. _There is no way she really feels that way,_ he says to himself, but he knows she has no reason to lie _._ Damn Gryffindors and their honesty and courage. That came out of her so naturally. So genuine. _Alright, I can top that. Easy._ “Fuck...”

The word just spills out of his mouth. Her eyebrows raise in confusion. She isn’t quite sure if he said because he was impressed or that the feeling was mutual. Before she could ask him to clarify, he crashes his mouth on hers and lets his kisses do the talking. This helps buy him some time to figure out a proper response to Polly.

Albus cups the side of her face and pulls away from the kiss. “If I’m perfect for you, you’re a dream, because you can’t be real.” He was proud of that one.

“I am real and so is this,” she says assertively, watching Albus’s usual coy smile brighten into an all-out grin. “Nice line by the way.”

“Worked didn’t it?”

“What do you think?”

He can’t hide his happiness as the sun creeps up higher and higher above them. Lovingly, he rubs circles on her back, while her head rests on his chest. The only way to describe the moment is serene. Here they are, surrounded by all the elements, fire, water, earth, and air. It’s magical. It’s physical. It’s emotional. It’s real.

—xoxox—

After returning to the _ryokan,_ they manage to squeeze in another two hours of sleep before the innkeeper’s wife arrives with their breakfast. She cheerfully greets them, _"Ohayo-gozaimsu!"_ outside the shoji screen door.

Thankfully, they are still dressed in what they wore to the beach. Wearing clothes to bed is a first for these two. The woman calls for them once more, and Polly realizes precisely how thin the walls are—though, she’s not apologizing for yesterday’s racket.  

The kindly, older woman lays out the sumptuous morning meal with an array of dishes on the table. The aroma wakes the couple out of their sleepy state. Before them is steaming hot rice with raw egg on the side, miso soup, grilled fish, tofu, nori, tsukudani (small fish and shellfish boiled down in soy sauce and sugar), and pickled radish.

“ _Arigato,”_ they reply in unison. Polly takes the photos as quickly as she can so she can dig in. There is still the odd photo here and there during the meal, well, mostly capturing Albus with his mouth full or of his long slender fingers, elegantly grasping the chopsticks while picking up one of the delicacies.

“Why do you need to take pictures of me when I eat?” he feigns annoyance while scooping fish and eggy rice into his mouth.

“You have beautiful hands and perfect chopstick form. You also smile before every bite. It’s the most adorable thing. It shows how much you appreciate every meal.” She kisses his cheek while he chews his food.

He swallows and takes a sip of his tea to wash down the bits of rice hiding between his teeth, “Well I need to take photos of you eating. It’s so... _sexual_.”

“Oh, how so?”

“God, Pol. The way you eat fucks me up. I mean...after seeing you eat... I just _had_ to shag you after the interview,” he reminisces, though she is skeptical as to how the way she eats could be such a turn-on. “You lick your lips before taking the first bite, and if it tastes good, you savor it and let out this little moan of satisfaction. And if it’s truly delicious, you throw your head back, and your eyes roll backward. You have these little foodgasms that are just so fucking sexy.”

Polly stops eating and covers her face, “Oh, that is mortifying. I make sex faces when I eat?”

“Mmm hmm. Totally makes me wish it was me in your mouth instead,” he shrugs his eyebrows.

“Well, the only thing I want in my mouth right now is this food,” she says while stuffing her face as disgustingly as possible.

“Still hot,” he winks.

After they finish breakfast, Polly changes out of her casual attire and slips on a classic white bikini. The simple color lets her body art stand out, but what really catches Albus’s eye is how flattering the cut is. The swim bottoms show a nice bit of bum and underwire top pushes her bust together creating the perfect cleavage—the type that beckons you to squeeze your face between. He can’t help but stare at her in stunned silence. Yeah, he’s seen her naked and in her underwear, but right now, she looks like a Bond girl—especially with her strapping a wand holster around her thigh. They would be traveling to springs shielded from muggles; thus, neither of them needed to worry about the vulnerability of being wandless.

Albus struggles to get ready as he is hopelessly distracted. “You look like every teenage boy’s wank fantasy right now.”

She laughs loudly, unable to respond. The witch just shakes her head and covers up with a maxi dress and jacket.

“Polly. I have the best idea ever. I really think it is.”

“Oh really?” she says sarcastically, slipping her feet into boots.

“We move somewhere warm, the Caribbean, the Seychelles, wherever. You become a nudist and swimsuits will be the most clothing you will ever have to wear.”

“Hmm...interesting thought,” she laughs once more, “but I think tropical life will get boring after a while. How about I just agree to walk around my flat naked every once in a while?”

“That works too,” he smirks while adjusting the straps on his holster. While he’s disappointed she’s already fully dressed, he hurries to finish up, and they head out for today’s excursion.

—xoxox—

The _onsen_ is hidden by trees and nestled on a mountain plateau overlooking a valley. The hot spring is not as large as most muggle destinations _,_ but this one is secluded and warded from prying eyes. They see several magical creatures scurry through the surrounding woods, some even venturing into the spring.

Albus and Polly swim back to one of the private huts that border the water for added privacy. As promised, he gives her a massage in the healing waters of the hot spring while sitting on a submerged bench. His hands move from her neck to her shoulders and arms, and down her back. Her little moans and purrs make it nearly impossible to resist massaging her _whole_ body. Before his hands move further south, she speaks.

“Albus, so what is so special about tonight’s dinner? You’re awfully secretive about it.” She rolls her neck, feeling her body loosen from the kneading of her muscles and the warm water.

“I’m trying to keep it a surprise,” he taunts while sliding his hands down her thighs.

“I hate surprises. Can you just tell me a few things? Have you been there before?”

“Actually, no. It’s a place that caters to couples. _Kaiseki_ but more romantic.” He starts kissing her neck. “I’ve wanted to go, but have never had anyone to go with.”

Her stomach flutters, “Really? You couldn’t find a date to join you for dinner.”

He tilts her chin up to look her in the eyes, hoping she’ll understand his meaning. “This restaurant isn’t someplace you go on a _date._ This is something _more_.”

“Something more?”

“Much more.”

“I think it’s your turn for a massage,” she says with fire behind her eyes.

His eyebrow quirks, more than ready for his turn.  

—xoxox—

By the time Albus and Polly left the spring, their skin is good and pruny, and they are famished. While she had initially wanted to go to Osaka, he convinced her to spend the whole day in Kyoto. He apparates them to Fushimi-Inari Shrine, which has an apparition point shielded from Muggles. Coincidentally, it’s near a food walk, lined with vendors serving all manner of sweet and savory delights. They agree to eat first, then sightseeing.

Polly is in full journalist mode with her phone out to record her notes and camera out to take photos. Albus gladly holds their food while she works. While torturous if you’re hungry, since it takes forever to get full, they only order one item from each stall so they can get a taste of everything. On a Sunday afternoon, it is incredibly busy, but they manage to try a variety of everything.

“What was your favorite?” Polly asks while taking a bite out of the green mochi ball filled with matcha filling.

“I think the vegetable pancakes,” Albus said before biting into the fish shaped cake filled with a sweet azuki bean paste.

“I’m going with the octopus fritters,” Polly said with certainty.

“Oh. Those were good. I could probably go for another one,” he offers to swap desserts with Polly.

She shrugs and takes his as he takes hers. “Okay, and the chicken yakitori?”

“Definitely.”

Hand-in-hand, they visit two temples and a handful of different art galleries.  To most everyone, visiting temples are a beautiful, spiritual experience, but for the witch and wizard, they can feel the magic humming around them igniting a force deep within. They leave offerings in the form of Yen coins and purchase paper fortunes. As they aren’t under the translation charm, like in wizarding Tokyo, they have to use a translator app on their phone to ask someone to read their fortune.

Teenage girls give Albus a look up and down and are unable to suppress their giggles. Polly stifles her laughter as the girls fawn over him, he, on the other hand, is slightly uncomfortable with the attention. They tell him his fortune says, great blessings in business dealings and hers says great blessings with moving. They thank the girls and bow. While Albus’s fortune could be interpreted to the opening of the gastropub, they have no idea what Polly’s means. Carefully, they tie paper fortunes them to the trees amongst the other well wishes.

Albus seems to have a strange sense of determination as he drags her in and out of different galleries. It’s apparent he’s looking for something in particular, but it doesn’t stop them from buying the odd piece here and there. When they finally come upon a ceramics specialty shop, he sighs with relief and smiles triumphantly. He speaks to one of the gallery salespeople while Polly picks out a charming tea set.

“Mister Potter, we will call your friend, Mister Malfoy, and ask him exactly what he’s looking for,” the slender woman with the blunt haircut says before bowing.

Polly asks, “Scorp?”

“Draco. He wants to purchase kintsugi for my aunt,” he says with a bit of hesitation. “Listen. I know what it all looked like at the dinner. But—”

“Albus. They’re adults. I’m sure they know what they’re doing. To be honest, the only new relationship I want to focus on right now is ours. So I won’t judge Minister Granger and Mister Malfoy, as long as your attention is on us. Okay?”

“Sounds good to me.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. “Find anything good?”

“A tea set,” she smiles brightly. “And some sake bottles and cups and…”

“Just get it all.”

“Are you trying to spoil me?”

“Us. You’re not drinking that sake or tea by yourself, are you?”

She laughs, “No…So it’s for us? But we don’t live—”

“Hana-san, can you please ring all of these up?” Albus interrupts and turns back to Polly. “Our reservations are soon.”

“It’s not even five. What are we, pensioners?”

He gives her a bit of a side eye, “You know you kind of suck at surprises and romantic gestures.”

She huffs knowing it’s true, “I’m sorry. It’s just—I want to _know._ ” She pouts impatiently. Albus has something really elaborate under his sleeve; she knows it. “Any more clues?”

“Nope.”

—xoxox—

After leaving the gallery, Polly doesn’t need to wait in suspense much longer. Albus takes her by the hand, and they apparate to a historic part of town. Surrounding them are beautiful gardens with smooth pebbled walkways and wooden bridges. The soothing sounds of water features bring an overall calm to the both of them. He leads them to a building that maintains its historic appearance, but the clean Japanese lettering beside crisp English typography and decals that notate they accept credit cards, indicate the restaurant is much more than a traditional kaiseki restaurant.

He licks his lips and looks as though he is about to burst with excitement. “Okay. So this place, it’s muggle, obviously, but it has a cool concept and cool history.”

“Go on…” she runs her finger up and down his chest, eager to learn more about her surprise.

“So back during the height of the geisha, this was a place of entertainment and dining—”

“Please tell me you didn’t bring me to a brothel.”

He rolls his eyes and laughs. Her sense of humor is one that he adores and loves to go toe-to-toe with. “No, Miss Chapman. Actual entertainment. Not a euphemism.” He laces his fingers with hers and kisses her knuckles. “During the decline of membership, it was opened to the public and became a kaiseki restaurant. Now a few years ago, the owner’s son took over and changed the concept again. What was missing from the establishment was the more _sensual_ side of dining.”

“Sensual?” she says with a naughty gleam in her eye.

“ _Nameru_ is tailored for couples. The rooms are small and private, the menu is designed for two, with some of the dishes are meant to be shared, and the entertainment adds to the ambiance. It’s all very _intimate_.” He moves his hands to her hips and pulls her in close for a kiss.

Her mind races wondering what those little inflections in his voice could be hinting. It’s not that she’s distrusting, she’s just so anxious to experience everything. Albus has enjoyed surprising her and really wants this trip to be special. _It’s time to let things go and let the night unfold,_ she tells herself _._

“Come on. We have to check in and change before dinner.”

“Change?”

After entering the establishment, two hostesses escort Albus and Polly to separate rooms so they can dress appropriately for dinner. Polly’s eyes go wide as she is asked to pick a _yukata_ from one of the many racks of colorful cotton robes. She’s even more excited once she finds out that she can keep it. The witch opts for a turquoise colored _yukata_ printed with cobalt blue waves and white koi, and soft pink obi with white flower outlines. The attendant helps her with the intricate folds and the tying of the obi. The wheels in Polly’s head start to turn, and she asks, “So how does this come off?”

The hostess giggles and says with a mischievous smile, “More easily than one would think.” She leads Polly to a chair and sweeps her long hair into a modern updo and adorns it with cascading beads and flowers. Next, she applies a light touch of makeup, accentuating Polly’s eyes and lips.

Completing the outfit, Polly slips her feet into the wooden _geta._ She can’t help but feel like a little girl who has just had the best game of dress-up. After getting a good look at herself in the mirror, the hostess leads her to a small dining room where Albus is waiting.

He’s dressed in an olive green yukata with a geometric pattern. A contrasting belt in a darker shade of green with stripes is slung low, beneath his waist and the robe is partially open, exposing his chest.

Neither can suppress their grins at the sight of seeing one another in traditional clothing.

“You look beautiful,” he says in awe.

“You have a top knot,” she almost giggles at the sight of all of his hair pulled tightly and tied at his crown. “It makes you look very handsome, and I like that I can see your eyes.”

He almost wishes he could hide behind his fringe, unable to take the compliment. “I don’t know. It kind of reminds me of how my dad used to wear it when I was a kid.”

“Do you want a photograph?” The hostess asks them.

They both nod their heads. Polly reaches into her bag for her camera and hands it to the woman. She and Albus smile and change poses under the hostess’s direction. After the impromptu photo shoot, she tells them that the _oshibori_ will be out soon along with drinks. They bow and thank the woman, then take their seats on the pillows at the low table.

“So what’s for dinner?” Polly asks excitedly.

“Honestly. I’m not sure. I went with the _Omakase_ —chef’s choice. The price isn’t even listed, so surprises all around.”

“Of course you did,” she snickers, but at the same time, glad he’s going all out. “You know I’m going to have to photograph and record notes during dinner. It might ruin the whole romantic vibe we have going.”

“It won’t,” he reassures her. His eyes wander to the gap at the back of her robe, which exposes her neck and upper back. Playfully, he runs his fingertips along her spine. “You’re the most covered up I’ve ever seen, yet you still manage to look sexy.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” struggling to find all her willpower to resist him. “You keep that up; we’re going to end up eating our dinner off of each other.”

“Would that be so bad?” his hand sneaks its way between the layers of her clothing searching for her inner thigh. Upon finding the soft skin, he gently grasps it and strokes his thumb teasingly close to her center.

Her breath catches as she melts under his touch. “Maybe a little touching and kissing before dinner are alright.”

“I think so.” His hand creeps higher finding her lack of undergarments and a wicked grin appears on his face.

“The hostess said the slip is the only undergarment I’m supposed to wear with this,” she explains with a smirk.

“Well thank you for the cultural lesson.” He slowly runs his finger along her slit before sliding it in.

“Baby,” she says breathily. “The host will be back soon.”

He nips at her neck while pumping his fingers in and out of her. “Did I forget to mention that this sort of behavior is acceptable here?”

“What are you talking about?” she asks in a low groan.

“I told you this place was for couples,” placing a small peck on her lips, not wanting to ruin her makeup. “You’re my final course.”

“Hmm?” she has difficulty grasping his words.

There is a knock at the screen door alerting them of the arrival of their hot towels and drinks. Albus pulls his long fingers out of her and places them in his mouth, savoring her taste. “Mmm.”

Hunger grows in her belly, and it’s not for the decadent meal they are about to indulge in. “You’re a terrible tease,” she huffs.

He gives her a wink and hollers, “Come in,” signaling the staff may enter. Two women enter, one is Polly’s hostess, who has the warm towels and sake. The other is Albus’s hostess who appears to be their entertainment for the night, carrying an acoustic guitar. They had both expected their show to be something more traditional, but they don’t question it.

The hostesses reintroduce themselves. “I am Aiko, and I will be serving you for the rest of the evening. Kotone will be your entertainment for the early part of evening.” She presents her associate, to which she smiles and nods. “Your first course will be out shortly.” She bids them farewell for the time being

A hauntingly beautiful voice comes from the woman sitting across from them as she plays intricate chords. Her musical selection is calming and romantic.

Polly delicately places her hand on his knee and gives it a little squeeze. She casts a sideways glance and admits, “Okay, this is a pretty amazing surprise.”

“You should know this by know, but I’m sneaky by nature. I’m going to do this often.” He winks.

“And I will stubbornly try to figure it out ahead of time.”

“Obviously.”

“Or...maybe I’ll attempt a surprise or two of my own.” She attempts to mimic his sly behavior.

“I welcome it.” He takes her hand off his knee and kisses it lovingly.

Aiko returns with the first course and places two impeccably composed dishes. The presentation is indeed a work of art. Delicate white fish lays atop vibrant spring vegetables with a brush of some type of cream sauce as its base. The dish is finished with a drizzle of a bright green vinaigrette. The two breathe in the warm and toasty scent of sesame oil, the oceanic essence of the dashi broth the fish was poached in, and the tartness of the vinegar before taking a bite. Polly takes a few photos quickly and records her notes, while Albus waits patiently, not wanting to eat without her. As soon as the camera is down, they both pick up their chopsticks, ready to devour the first course.

It’s magical. The contrasting flavors all manage to balance each other out. There is a reason these dishes are so small—if forces you to have a complete bite and taste the chef’s intention. To pick out an ingredient would be akin to listening to a symphony without the woodwind section. Every little drop and crumb have purpose. If one course has them having an out of body experience, what do the next ten courses hold?

“Oh. My. God.” Polly exclaims during the seventh course. “This...is...omigod.”

Albus snickers, recalling their conversation during breakfast.

“Okay. I hear it now. I make sex noises when I eat. But this meal...I can’t words.”

“Will you be able to _words_ for your article?” he asks before taking another bite.

“Of course,” she pretends to scoff. “But right now, I want to _be in the moment_ , as you would say.”

Pleased to hear that she’s finally letting go, he swallows his food, then kisses her on the temple.

After they finish, what they believe to be the final course, Polly cuddles in Albus’s arms beyond satisfied. Tonight is the perfect end to their trip. Tomorrow they would be traveling back to London. Sure, they might do a few things around the village and say goodbye to their friends, but this was most certainly the pinnacle.

The music ends and Kotone bows, thanking them for joining them for the evening. She leaves to put away her instrument and will return to help clear the table. Aiko arrives and gathers all the dirty plates and dishes onto a tray she sets out in the hall.

“Wait, there was no dessert course,” Polly mentions, her tastebuds noticing a serious lack of sweetness.

“That’s next.” His smile is pure mischief. He stands her up and they move out of their attendant’s way.

Aiko finishes cleaning off the table and pulls a lever, sinking it down to floor level. From another hidden panel in the floor, she pulls out a futon and covers it with a plastic sheet.

Kotone returns with three bowls of what appear to be sauces, paint brushes, fresh fruit, washcloths, and a small basin and a kettle of hot water. Before setting it down on the floor, she tells the couple, “This is yuzu mango cream, matcha white chocolate, and sakura infused oil.”

The women smile and leave the couple to their own devices.

Polly licks her lips, finally understanding. “So this is dessert?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a naughty boy, Albus Potter.”

“Sometimes,” he smirks. “Now how do I get you out of this bloody thing?”

“Start from the back.”

He examines how the obi is tied and the other belts keeping the robe in place. “Ah, like opening a Christmas present.” The time he takes to undress her is agonizing. It’s not that he hasn’t figured out how to get her out of the garments — he wants her anticipation to grow and bubble to the surface, so all she can think about is her desire.

Once he unties all the belts, he pushes the fabric of the robe down and drinks her in. His hands run over her curves, re-familiarizing himself with all of her delicious curves. He has no plans on taking her hair down. There is something so sensual about a woman stripped down, but her hair and makeup still pristine. Call it what you will, but he finds it incredibly sexy.  

“My turn,” she says yanking at his belt. It is far less involved than hers and dropped to the floor after a few quick tugs of fabric. She sucked in her breath seeing his cock already at attention.  

“I know what you’re thinking. _Dessert first._ Now go lay down.” He commands. There is no way she is going to rush this. “I’m going to take my time, and we’re going to enjoy this.”

“I’m going to get a turn with you, right?” she asks crawling backward on the plastic-covered mattress.

“Of course.” He dips his finger in the mango yuzu cream and sucks it clean. “Mmm. Yeah, we’re starting with this one.” Once again, he covers his finger in the cream, but this time he spreads the sweet and tangy fruit sauce across her lips.

Naturally, she licks her lips and swirls her tongue around his finger. “Delicious.”  

 

* * *

**!—LEMON WARNING: SCROLL TO BREAK—!**

* * *

 

His eyes roll back with her lips around his digit. As much as he would like her to be sucking something else, it isn’t time. Not just yet. He does his damndest to focus and takes a generous amount of the cream onto the paintbrush and began painting swirling patterns around her nipples down to her navel. After placing the bowl and brush down, his tongue follows the long sweeping strokes. His tongue alternates the ways he consumes the sweet, fruit cream off her abdomen, stopping to kiss her sticky skin, dip into her navel, and lap at the cream melting and pooling between her breasts. She gasps and moans as he turns her into his canvas. He sucks and tugs at her pert nipples, causing her voice to heighten in volume, and body to quiver. He hasn’t even gotten to her cunt, and she is already unraveling. Albus stops momentarily and peers upward hoping to catch her attention. Her eyes flutter open, and they share a smile. Their usual quips and teasing are put aside for subtle, mutual understanding.  

The next bowl he picks up was the sakura oil. It is runnier and slicker than the cream. He let the brush saturate itself in the pink liquid, then let it drip down her quim; the tiny droplets create a sheen on her tidy, soft, black curls. With utmost care, he kisses his way down her body, sucking and licking any remnants of the cream. Before he moves on to the next _dish_ of the dessert course, he lazily teases her. The tips of his fingers rub the oil around her outer lips and the tiny bundle of nerves screaming for attention.  His touch just barely grazes her skin which grows hotter as he delays her satisfaction. Just like he did with the cream, he rubs the oil on her lips, and she takes his fingers into her mouth.

“Sit up on your elbows,” he instructs, as he readies himself to eat his dessert— _finally_.

Polly pulls the string keeping his hair in place. As much as she likes seeing his eyes, she loves grasping his hair while he eats her pussy, more.

He leads with his tongue out, like a snake sensing its surroundings, and plunges into her. His tongue swirls and dips at a steady pace while his thumb rubs circles on her clit.

Instinctively, she grinds her hips, craving his touch. She massages her breasts with her free hand and releases her grip on his hair moving it to her clit, giving him a show in appreciation.

“Fuck,” he moans as he catches a glimpse of his goddess caressing herself. He continues to pleasure her with one hand and sits up so he can watch. Together, they help her reach her climax. He pulls his fingers out and laps at her center once more. “Mmm. Of all the things I’ve tasted this weekend, nothing compares to this.”

Sweating and panting, she still isn’t satisfied and wants to make him feel the way he makes her feel. “Your turn.”  

Their lips and tongues collide tasting a myriad of flavors—the decadent meal, the "dessert toppings," and their natural essence. He yanks her onto his lap and positions his tip ready at her entrance.

“Oh, no you don’t.” She pulls away. “You made me wait, so I’m doing the same to you. On your back.”

“Yes, Miss Chapman,” he says obediently.

She looks at the array of things on the wooden platter. The green tea and white chocolate sauce is the only one they haven’t tried yet, but it has gone cold and has begun separating. “You remember when you said I have a lot of fire?”

“Of course.”

With the bowl in her hand, she wandlessly and wordlessly warms the concoction by swirling her finger in it, until it’s the perfect consistency and temperature. Forgoing the paintbrush, she opts for a more hands-on approach and tilts the bowl, dripping the hot chocolate sauce on his chest.

He sucks in a breath through his gritted teeth. His body contracting and relaxing as he relishes in the pain and pleasure of it all. “Holy—”

“Shh…” she presses a finger to his lips. Her warm fingertips work the sauce all over his skin, pressing into his chest muscles. She licks a trial from his clavicle, over his Adam’s apple and stubbled chin, to his parted lips, leaving only a chaste kiss before returning to his abdomen. He lets out a little groan of disappointment. “Don’t worry. I’m not done yet.” Licking her palms like a kitty cat, she slurps every bit of the sticky white chocolate before coating them with the cherry blossom oil. Implementing the same torture tactic he used on her, he grasps his throbbing cock and slides her hands up and down as slowly as possible, feeling it twitch with every stroke. He writhes under her, rolling his hips, begging for more. She licks her lips, ready to feel his head and shaft against her tongue. In a moment of weakness, she takes him entirely in her mouth. She wanted to tease him and draw it out longer, but his pleading eyes hypnotized her into doing his bidding, not that she minds. After all, it was her who initiated their sexual relationship with her insatiable need to blow him.

“I fucking love the sounds you make when you suck my cock,” he groans as he hears the sucking, slurping, and popping. The corners of her mouth curl into a smile, even with him down her throat. She enjoys it. She _really_ fucking enjoys it and pulls him too close to the edge. “Oh, fuck! Stop. Please.”

She sucks his head hard and releases with a loud pop and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“Sit on me. I want to see all those beautiful faces you make when I fuck you.”

Polly positions herself over his cock and lowers her body, hissing as she takes him to the hilt. Her hands move back to his chest, still covered in the sauce. She tilts and grinds her hips slowly, wanting this to last as long as possible. To think she thought the dinner was the perfect way to end this trip. Nope. Licking decadent, gourmet flavors and making love somewhere it was not only accepted but encouraged—this is how you end a holiday.

Albus grips her hips, urging her to go faster. The night has been so sensual, but he’s ready to give in to his carnal desires. He sits up and moves his hands to her back, one finding its way to the back of her neck, and pulls it back. His lips seek her pulse point, leaving love bites. He tilts her head back to face him. Nose-to-nose he demands, “Ride me. Hard.”

This is a welcome shock to the system. Her eyes darken, as unadulterated lust takes over. “Yes…” she hisses. Fingernails rake his scalp and travel down his back. Their limbs tangle and claw for support, as their hips thrust and gyrate faster and faster; the sound of skin slapping and breathy moans and wails are the only music to be heard now. In a moment of self-awareness, she struggles to swallow. Her mouth dry and sore. Polly can only imagine how loud her screams are and she bites his shoulder attempting to muffle the sound.

Albus groans, welcoming the pain. The woman straddling him has so much unbridled passion and restrains nothing. He stares at the way she clenches and relaxes her jaw and the way her mouth seeks him—any part of him. Her beautiful mouth needs his taste him as if her life depends on it. He holds onto her as he exerts every ounce of energy he possesses to pleasure her, proving he needs her as much as she needs him. In some subconscious way, the accelerated pace and roughness remind them their relationship doesn’t have to be one thing. It’s not just romantic and tender. It can be wild and erratic; it can be whatever they want. They don’t have to be tied to anyone’s expectations but their own. He makes a decision at that moment.

“Polly—”

“Albus—”

“I—”

“YES—”

“Want—”

“I’m coming!”

As the waves roll over, she collapses in his arms. He lays her on her back and takes over, so he can finish.

Her chest heaves while looking up at him with the most blissful expression. She brushes the fringe out of his face so she can gaze into those intense eyes. “Baby,” she whispers as he continues his determined ministrations. A bead of sweat rolls off his nose and onto the corner of her mouth. She licks it off and wraps her legs around him.

“I…ugh...I want…” Albus struggles for words, but his body betrays him and wants him only to focus on reaching orgasm.

“Come for me, baby,” she urges.

At her command, he lets go, spilling inside of her. His body shakes and strains, continuing to thrust as his seed streams out of his body. He falls to her side, unable to remember what he wanted to tell her. “So. Sticky.”

 

* * *

**!—END OF LEMONS—!**

* * *

 

 

They laugh at themselves; their naked bodies tangled on a plastic sheet covered in sweat, bodily fluids, and the remnants of their gourmet dessert. Polly crawls to the tray and wets the washcloth and wipes Albus down, and then herself but it’s not enough to feel clean. She reaches into the pocket of the robe and pulls out her wand, which she snuck in when Aiko wasn’t looking. She casts a quick _Scourgify_ on the both of them, and they feel a little cleaner.

Still undressed, he takes her and runs his knuckle down the side of her cheek. “I’m in so deep.”

“Me too.” They kiss softly, hearts still racing, and slightly out of breath. “Albus?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know how to put this robe back on.”

He bursts out laughing and shakes his head. “I’m sure we’ll figure out something.”

—xoxox—

It’s their last morning in Japan, and neither of them wants to get out of bed. Last night was one of those incredible experiences that they plan on holding onto forever. They lay there, holding and admiring each other, as the rising sun creeps through the windows.

Polly traces Albus’s sharp cheekbones and jawline with her fingers. Lazily she mutters, “I don’t want to go back.”

“We don’t have to.”

“Yes, we do. I have job, and you have a restaurant to open.”

“Hmm. I guess you’re right,” he sighs.

“I’ve gotten really used to waking up next to you,” she bites her lip while brushing the fringe out of his eyes.

“That doesn’t have to change.”

“I guess it doesn’t. Spend the night at my place tonight? I’ll make you paella.”

His stomach grumbles at the sound, making her laugh. “Make it at my place. I have the professional kitchen.”

“I have the heirloom pan my grandmother gave me,” she reasons.

“Bring it. Bring all your stuff.”

“Are you asking me to—”

“Yes.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Albus, but we...we haven’t even defined our relationship.”

He quirks his eyebrow, “You mean all this doesn’t make me your boyfriend?”

“Maybe a girl wants to hear it out loud,” she tickles his side.

“Oh, is that so?” he growls in her ear. “Fine.”

He reaches for his phone and his thumbs work in a frenzy.

“What are you doing?”

“In a relationship with P-O-L-L-Y—”

“Oh, my god. Don’t.” Her eyes grow wide as she tries to reach for the phone. “That’s so fucking lame.”

“Too late. You’re officially my girlfriend, and I’m your boyfriend. Aww, look at how many likes we already got.” He teases. “Now I need to post a photo of us.”

She lunges for him, but he stands and raises the phone high out of her reach.

“Albus, what the hell are you doing?” laughing at their game of keep-away while nude. He wordlessly summons both of their wands and places an invisible barrier between them. “OH, this is _so_ not fair.”

Scrolling through his gallery, he sighs and smirks, “So many of these photos are of you naked. I can’t share these…”

“You better not,” she tries to keep her cool, knowing that he’s just teasing, but he’s really pushing her buttons.

“Oh, this one is perfect. _Spent all weekend in @pollchap...I mean Japan…”_

“NO!” Her mouth drops unsure if he really wrote that.

He turns the phone around, and it’s a photo of her from yesterday morning watching the sunrise with the caption, _Thank you for making my days a little brighter @pollchap._ With a wave of his wand, he takes down the barrier. They stare for a moment before she jumps in his arms.

“You’re such an adorable arsehole.”

“So, _girlfriend,_ wanna move in with me?”

She kisses him quickly, “Yes, _boyfriend,_ but I still have another two months on my lease.”

“I’ll pay to break it.”

Indignantly she looks at him, “You can’t just throw money at problems.”

“The hell I can’t. What else am I going to do with it?”

Polly rolls her eyes, “Put me down and let’s sit and talk about this.”

“Fine,” he huffs as he obliges and they both sit back on the futon.

“Okay, I agreed to move in with you, but I think we need a new place of our own. I think it’s important to separate work from home life. It’s why I seldom work from home and prefer going to the office,” she reasons.

“I like where this is going...”

“So, let’s let my lease ride out so we can find a place together that suits both our styles and needs.”

“And make renovations if necessary.”

“For a rental?”

“In this market, it’s impractical to rent, especially if you have the means to purchase. If anything, it could become an investment property if we ever outgrow it.”

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

She still hasn’t gotten over the fact that he can afford to make these kind of decisions so casually. “Do you own property elsewhere?”

“One studio in Paris, one in Munich, and a loft in New York. They’re all small. Easy to rent out but I’ve been thinking about selling them,” he prattles on. Realizing what he just said, he snaps himself back to the present. “But you want to do this, right? Really do this?”

“Yes. I want to move in with you, Albus Potter.” She crawls back in his lap and begins kissing him playfully.

“Wait, one more thing.”

“Make it fast.”

He makes a call, “Mum.”

“Albus, it’s fucking four in the morning. What are you thinking calling me so early?”

“Tell Polly’s boss she won’t be in today. She worked all weekend.”

“How does going on holiday and shagging my son constitute as ‘working all weekend?’”

He laughs as he realizes where he got his sense of humor from. “We visited many dining establishments, and she has thousands of photos to comb through. Is that a good enough reason?”

“I guess, but why does she need the day off?” Ginny is in both managerial and protective mother mode.

“We’re going to meet with an estate agent when we get back in town. We’re moving in together.” He has to hold the phone far away from his ear as his mother screams with excitement.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH! HARRY! HARRY! WAKE UP! ALBUS AND POLLY ARE MOVING IN TOGETHER! OMIGOD I’M SO EXCITED!”

Polly’s face blushes deeply, not expecting that whole interaction with Albus in his mother.

“So you’re not going to lecture me about this being too soon, or maybe we should see where the relationship takes us?”

“Why would I do that? I shacked up with your father on graduation day. I really don't have a leg to stand on.”

He laughs, “Alright Mum, go back to bed. We’ll see you when we get back.”

“How am I supposed to go back to sleep now. Thank Merlin. At least one of my children is in a serious relationship.”

“Bye Mum.”

“Bye Pickle. Tell Polly I said welcome to the family.” He ends the call with a little flutter in his stomach at that last bit his mother said.

“So Ginny’s excited,” Polly laughs. “So you thought this was big enough news to tell your mother before _sealing the deal?_ ”

“Let’s be honest, Pol. We sealed the deal on day one.”  

 

* * *

_**Bonus Features!** _

* * *

 

So my readers know I cannot help but create art for my stories, and  _I Dare You,_ is no exception. So here are Albus and Polly's Instagram feeds from their trip to Japan. They're so pretty...

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, those crazy kids. I hope my Confessions fans enjoyed that. And if you read that as a one-off, I’m even more shocked. This has been one of my favorite things to write ever. I really wanted to write a modern romance, one that started with sex, but quickly grew into something more. I know it will never have the numbers any of my Dramione fics have but, I’ve given this story a lot of research and love. I’m not done with these two just yet, and if you read between the lines of Confessions: Isn’t She Lovely, and Albus, Meet Albus: A Play in One Act, you might have an idea what path these two are down...but it might be a while before I visit them again.  
> Also, some cute things from Albus’s childhood that are inspired by Blvnk-Art’s Auror Potter series. There is [cute comic in which Ginny sings the “Pickled Toad” Valentine song to Albus](https://www.instagram.com/p/BYPTqHYHvY1/?taken-by=potterbyblvnk). So it’s my headcanon that she just cut it short and calls him, Pickle. Also, when Albus says he looks like his dad in a top knot, that is directly inspired by [Auror Potter](https://www.instagram.com/potterbyblvnk/). 
> 
> Now that this is done, I’m back to working on Drama Club, A Girl Worth Fighting For, and Trope Soup with MotherofBulls. I have another fic in the works, which will be a very Downton Abbey-esque drama that will be very wrapped up in Pureblood Aristocracy traditions. Coming Soon...  
> Thanks again for reading. Feel free to leave a review. As always, I’m also on tumblr: harrypotterandthegobletofwine and Facebook: saintdionysuswriter

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: To all the Confessions fans, thank you for continuing the journey with me. I have more mini-stories like this planned. I love these characters so much I don’t think I could ever say goodbye to them completely. There were some fun little Easter eggs. Reply in the comments if you caught them!
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)
> 
> Also, check out my other works in progress, Drama Club and A Girl Worth Fighting for. You'll all get your Dramione fix there.


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